Fall Is Upon Us – Mother Nature Says So

This summer has been no different than any other summer – it came and it went before we knew it.  Not that summer is actually over.  It’s just that the feeling has changed.  Darkness arrives earlier each night, woodland plants are looking weak and the poison ivy is turning red, and there is a tell-tale sharpness in the chill of evening.  Summer is slowly heading south.

The waning summer became evident to me the other night as summer and fall came together in a strange mixing of the seasons.  Of all places, I stood in center field of a baseball park in western Minnesota – playing the game that is the very epitome of hot, sweaty summers.  It was evening and they had just turned on the lights to illuminate the field.  The batter was taking his time getting to the plate, so I took a moment to look toward the setting sun and admire the red and pink sky.

From the horizon, a wavy, undulating line began to form.  It was flock of about 30 mallards winging their way to a night time wetland to rest.  Flying ducks have a way of their own.  Their wing beats are rapid and steady as they hold in lines and V-shaped flocks in flight.  No other bird is quite like it.
The ducks drew close and flew right along the first base line until they disappeared into the darker eastern twilight.  The appearance of flocking ducks brought a new mood to me.  Suddenly the summer night turned into fall.

Flocking waterfowl is one of the most visible harbingers of fall.  After summer when we see few, if any flying ducks, young of the years birds are now learning to fly, and adult bird’s flight feathers are growing out after the summer molt.  Family groups start to leave small ponds and  gather with other flocks on larger bodies of water as they begin pre-staging for eventual fall migration.

The change of summer to fall is a bittersweet time for many.  The season of  brilliant blue skies, Indian Summer, vibrant leaves, and occasional perfect days is loved – but is too short.  The change from autumn to winter is seldom  gentle.  It’s typically abrupt and definite.

But why think about that now.  It is after all only the end of August, and there are a few baseball games left.

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