Changing seasons
18/09/12 05:04
It seems that the seasons change at different paces in different years. Some years fall comes suddenly, with a sense of surprise and wonder as the hills break forth into color, a chill comes into the air and the animals change their behavior suddenly. This year, however, we seem to be easing into fall at a slow and measured pace. The temperatures are still warm. It’s 47 degrees by my thermometer as I rise this morning. The high temperatures have been reaching into the seventies or eighties most days. That is a relief from the 100+ days we experienced in August, but hardly could be described as chilly.
But in the higher country, the changes are evident. Fall is coming. The trees and bushes are showing a lot of color just a few miles farther up the road. The deer are definitely moving about and the bucks are strutting with their heads held high, full of themselves and their bigger-than-last-year antlers.
Yesterday I had a bit of extra time and took the opportunity to paddle in Pactola Lake. I launched early, before 7 a.m. at Jenny Gulch. The lake has been drawn down to satisfy the water needs downstream, so there was a field of mud between where I parked the car and the water. I scouted a couple of routes around the mud, but it looked like it might hold me, so I headed out. Of course, I sunk in and had muddy feet before I got to the water, which meant that I had to rinse off my feet before sticking them into the boat. Wet and chilly feet aren’t the best way to start a morning paddle.
I had a paddling jacket and gloves and a spray skirt, so soon I was tucked into my little boat and my body heat warmed up the interior of the boat and I soon forgot my chilly toes.
It has been a dry year, so the inlet isn’t running like a stream, but rather a trickle here and there oozing though the mud. I couldn’t paddle in areas that I had enjoyed exploring in the spring, but it is a big lake and there was plenty to see.
The loud thwack of a beaver tail hitting the water has a distinctive sound. Often I hear it before I know where to look. There is the initial splash, which is quite a bit for an animal the size of a beaver. Then there is a deeper sound as the tail pulls into the water. The beaver waits until you have paddled into what it considers to be its territory. It will watch a paddler for quite a while before sounding its warning. There have been some times when I have been startled by a beaver. Once, when paddling in Ontario, I nearly rolled my kayak as I leaned away from the splash. Yesterday, however, I could see the beavers swimming before they splashed, so I was ready. And I saw four beavers in a single paddle, an unusual occurrence for me. They could have been concentrated in a smaller area because some of them were this year’s kits. The kits stay with their parents for a couple of years, so there could be kits from last year as well as this year’s kits hanging around. It is also possible that they were all together because they are in the process of relocating to a new lodge. The places where the lodges were located last spring are mostly dry now and not the kinds of homes beavers prefer. Most of the time there are more beavers than I see, with some inside the lodge and others out and about scouting for food.
I paddled around and watched the beavers for a while until all of them got tired of me and headed beneath the water for a while. Soon the sun was warming me as I enjoyed another beautiful day in the hills. Lists of undone tasks were calling me as I took the boat out of the water, but I decided that the onset of fall merited taking the “long cut” to get home, so I circled around the hills instead of taking a direct route to my house. By then it was warm enough to drive with the window down. The smoke had cleared a bit and though it still is definitely present, it wasn’t bothering me as I took a look at the changing colors and dodged the deer and turkeys feeding in the ditches alongside the road.
The changing of the seasons is one of life’s sweet treasures. I enjoy watching to see what will be coming next. Autumn is one of my favorite seasons. I’m not too much for the hottest of days. I prefer my nights cool and am happy even when I need to wear a light jacket. Falls are generally dry around here, so we don’t get wet when going for a walk. However, I’d take rain or snow or moisture any way we could get it. Yesterday’s cloudy skies didn’t produce any rain. The clouds blew off to the east. Hopefully someone is enjoying the moisture they were carrying.
The stages of life are often compared to the seasons. I read somewhere that with extended life expectancies, the onset of middle age is now around 55 rather than 40. I think that is probably true, but at 55, I didn’t have time to notice such things. I was busy with launching children, caring for parents, earning a living and facing new challenges in my work.
But it does feel like we are changing seasons in our lives. Yesterday was the final meeting with the lawyer to settle Susan’s father’s estate. Our children are on their own in their own marriages and homes and we discover that we have been living in this house longer than any home we’ve ever had. The house that we bought knowing that we needed room for our children and space for our parents to make extended visits is now a bit empty with just two of us.
It is a good time to remind myself that the changing of seasons is natural. It is also beautiful and filled with surprises. Maybe it takes an occasional slap of a beaver’s tail to wake me up and get me to open my eyes to the beauty that surrounds me.
But in the higher country, the changes are evident. Fall is coming. The trees and bushes are showing a lot of color just a few miles farther up the road. The deer are definitely moving about and the bucks are strutting with their heads held high, full of themselves and their bigger-than-last-year antlers.
I had a paddling jacket and gloves and a spray skirt, so soon I was tucked into my little boat and my body heat warmed up the interior of the boat and I soon forgot my chilly toes.
It has been a dry year, so the inlet isn’t running like a stream, but rather a trickle here and there oozing though the mud. I couldn’t paddle in areas that I had enjoyed exploring in the spring, but it is a big lake and there was plenty to see.
The loud thwack of a beaver tail hitting the water has a distinctive sound. Often I hear it before I know where to look. There is the initial splash, which is quite a bit for an animal the size of a beaver. Then there is a deeper sound as the tail pulls into the water. The beaver waits until you have paddled into what it considers to be its territory. It will watch a paddler for quite a while before sounding its warning. There have been some times when I have been startled by a beaver. Once, when paddling in Ontario, I nearly rolled my kayak as I leaned away from the splash. Yesterday, however, I could see the beavers swimming before they splashed, so I was ready. And I saw four beavers in a single paddle, an unusual occurrence for me. They could have been concentrated in a smaller area because some of them were this year’s kits. The kits stay with their parents for a couple of years, so there could be kits from last year as well as this year’s kits hanging around. It is also possible that they were all together because they are in the process of relocating to a new lodge. The places where the lodges were located last spring are mostly dry now and not the kinds of homes beavers prefer. Most of the time there are more beavers than I see, with some inside the lodge and others out and about scouting for food.
The changing of the seasons is one of life’s sweet treasures. I enjoy watching to see what will be coming next. Autumn is one of my favorite seasons. I’m not too much for the hottest of days. I prefer my nights cool and am happy even when I need to wear a light jacket. Falls are generally dry around here, so we don’t get wet when going for a walk. However, I’d take rain or snow or moisture any way we could get it. Yesterday’s cloudy skies didn’t produce any rain. The clouds blew off to the east. Hopefully someone is enjoying the moisture they were carrying.
The stages of life are often compared to the seasons. I read somewhere that with extended life expectancies, the onset of middle age is now around 55 rather than 40. I think that is probably true, but at 55, I didn’t have time to notice such things. I was busy with launching children, caring for parents, earning a living and facing new challenges in my work.
But it does feel like we are changing seasons in our lives. Yesterday was the final meeting with the lawyer to settle Susan’s father’s estate. Our children are on their own in their own marriages and homes and we discover that we have been living in this house longer than any home we’ve ever had. The house that we bought knowing that we needed room for our children and space for our parents to make extended visits is now a bit empty with just two of us.