Someone asked me the other day, “What are we going to do if the government shuts down?” My answer was the same as when people asked about Y2k: “The church will be open for business as usual.” It is October, and the sunrise has moved back to around 7 am, which means that I can’t get in a paddle and still have time to shower and make a 8 a.m. meeting. So from now on, my paddling can’t be on workdays until the days begin to stretch out in the spring. We don’t get our hour back from daylight savings for another month, and by then the days will be even shorter, so in terms of sunrise, we’ll only gain about a half hour.

But I still have opportunities to paddle. On Saturday, I snuck up to the lake in the afternoon after meeting with my men’s group and spending the morning splitting wood. And yesterday I didn’t have any morning meetings so I was on the lake about a half hour before sunrise and paddled a bit longer because I wasn’t rushing to make a meeting.

The critters of the lake can sense the change of seasons. Yesterday was the first paddle since last winter that I didn’t see any geese at the lake. I think that it is way too early for them to have left the country, but they are definitely gathering into flocks and the group from Sheridan Lake was probably over at Pactola or up at Sylvan or down in town at Canyon Lake. From now own we’ll see larger flocks of geese. Some of the hardy ones spend the winter in South Dakota, but they seem to prefer Canyon Lake in town. I suspect that they are more accomplished at getting humans to feed them, even though that is supposedly against park rules.

We were told to expect the fall colors to be a their height last weekend. “It will be an early fall,” everyone was saying. But there aren’t too many colors showing. The temperatures have been warm, with overnight lows in the 40s. We have had several mornings with frost at the lake, but it hasn’t gotten below freezing at home yet.

Without the geese, it was very quiet at the lake. I didn’t see ducks, either, but they were probably there, paddling in and out of the cattails. There is plenty of food for the birds at the lake, but it is time for moving on. We have noticed the movement of the birds at home as well. A scarlet tanager stopped for a dip in the birdbath before heading south. And the blue jays are hanging about in the trees scolding me each time I head outdoors. They come for the sunflowers. The blue jays are slow harvesters, and get plenty of seeds, but once the pinion jays descend, the remaining seeds will disappear in a single day. I haven’t seen the pinion jays yet this fall. There is still color on some of the sunflowers and they aren’t all dried yet.

One way to know that the seasons are changing is that the quality and the color of the light changes. Sunrise on the lake in the fall isn’t quite as dramatic as it is in the summer. The sun angle is higher because the highest hills close to the lake are now between the sun and me as this tilted planet makes it seem like the sun is moving south. The lake gets brighter before we see the sun. Before sunrise the water appears dark with reflections of pinks and purples from the sky. Gone are the gold and yellow colors that mark summer sunrises.

Someone who thinks that a sunrise is a sunrise just hasn’t taken the time to look at enough of them. I can look through my pictures and tell what time of the year the picture was taken by the quality of the light and the colors reflected off of the water.

The beavers have been working for several weeks on two new dams in the inlet to the lake. They haven’t really raised the water level much yet, but you can identify that their winter lodges will be fairly close to each other this year. That means that they have determined that there are enough young willows and birch close to the water for them to eat. The abundance of plants probably signals a slight decrease in the deer population, or at least in the number of deer hanging out alongside the creek in that immediate area. I don’t know if the beavers have made a deal with the mountain lions or not, but there are plenty of other explanations. As is typical this time of the year, it seemed like all the deer were hanging out on the road as I drove up to the lake in the dark. I know from experience that even when I’m being careful it is possible to hit a deer on Sheridan Lake Road.

I go to the lake to clear my head and experience solitude. Most of the time I’m not really alone at the lake, there are just fewer humans around because many don’t like to get up as early as I. There are plenty of critters to keep me company. The lake is rarely really silent even in the wee hours of the morning and when the sunrise comes all sorts of critters start to stir and there is plenty of noise. By contrast, the lake was very quiet yesterday. Most of the time the sound of my paddle in the water was the loudest thing I could hear and I use a wooden paddle that is pretty quiet. My paddling jacket is a little noisy. The waterproofing makes the fabric a bit stiff. All summer long I can paddle without a jacket, but these days I need a good jacket and a stocking cap for my morning paddle.

Another day the lake will be entirely different. A few geese will stop by or the osprey will call to its young across the lake. The ducks will clatter as they get ready for their migration and the beavers will slap their tails to warn me about paddling too close to their space.

Yesterday, however, was a good day for a quiet paddle and time to think and sort out my own thoughts. It is a great way to begin the week.

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