Hinge Days

Waking now to darkness and silence: it’ll be awhile before the sun makes any kind of appearance. And when it does it may be bright and cheerful but without the brassy heat of summer. The air has a welcome coolness and at long last we’ve even had rain! My calendar declares this the first day of Fall, the autumn solstice, a marker day in the turning of the Earth.

 The dawn chorus has long quieted to nothing. Birds are now intent on flocking behavior, readying for migration or are laying low, completing their annual molt and growing strong new feathers. The towhees in my garden are looking especially disheveled and secretive. I am reminded to leave some cover plantings for them to hide away in while doing the fall clean up of the garden and to spare flowers going to seed for winter food. Chickadees have discovered the drying sunflowers and are darting in and out of that clump. Their calls are softer, mere chips. There is more stillness. The flurry of mating, territorial displays, feeding the young, and all the bustle of summer is over. I too feel ready for a change.

At times like Solstice I think about Phenology, the science that tracks “firsts.” Wikipedia’s definition from the Greek origin of the word goes to the heart of the matter: “to bring to light, to show, to make appear.” It’s the practice of noticing and recording: the first sighting of a bird in spring, the first buds opening on a tree, or the appearance of a flower in bloom. In Fall, it might be when birds begin to gather on telephone wires before migration or the first crimson leaf on your sweet gum tree or even activities of insects and spiders as they prepare for the next stage in their life cycle. Temperature and light measurements, the first freeze, the timing of dawn and sunset. Whatever is occurring outside that we can observe and note and compare over the years to find patterns….and with climate change, the breaking of patterns.

But while I am interested in the practice and discipline of Phenology I recognize that I am too scattershot in my attention. And too uncertain of my own observations: Is this really the first? How long has that tree looked like that? What am I missing? Keeping that kind of record will probably remain an aspiration! But I’m sure there are ways to find such records and use them as prompts for exploration. That might be just as useful….there is so much to learn!

Meanwhile, the trees are holding the moment, tentatively turning a leaf here and there but not yet rushing into glorious reds and golds. The leaves scattered on the ground are more a statement about this summer’s drought than the new season. I’ll try to keep watch this time, maybe pick just one tree and pay attention to its cycle.

And tune into a presentation I found on the Aldo Leopold Foundation website:

Phenology and YOU: Bringing Leopold into Our Time, a lecture hosted by Professor Emeritus and Wisconsin Conservation Hall-of-Famer Dr. Stan Temple 

October 5, 5:00-6:00 PDT.

Registration required (it’s free): https://my.demio.com/ref/25eGcmpj0pvgXsYt?mc_cid=0fd09eb5ec&mc_eid=887ba62def