It’s Falling—Part 2

As Fall comes on, birds forage for the last remaining sweet berries—either stocking up for their migration south or enjoying their last treats before being forced to eat dry, tasteless seeds on wintry days for those who remain here. I like to examine the clearing’s deciduous trees, looking for their old nests, hidden beneath canopies of leaves during the summer, but now exposed by the fallen leaves.

As I write, a large flock of grackles just descended on our dogwood trees, stripping every berry in just a few minutes. Luckily for the year-‘round avian residents, we are beginning to load up the bird feeder, since they were robbed of their berries by the invading grackles. If truth were to be told, I think the local birds favor the meaty sunflower seeds continually delivered to their feeder, spurning the bland dogwood berries.

Our neighborhood avian tenants begin to congregate in the Fall. Their summertime competitive engagements are now forgotten, as their offspring have either departed for new environs or joined the band as adults. The newly-formed flock hovers around the bid feeder, urging me to stock it with ever-increasing amounts of seeds. The flocking also boosts their safety—now that they can no longer evade predators by hiding in bushes or dense trees. In a cooperative group many eyes are better at avoiding being on the lunch menu for a hawk.

Fall also impacts many types of plants. It’s the time for them to propagate seeds for next spring’s rebirth. Some of those seeds get eaten and lost to plant reproduction, but they put out such a prolific harvest that a few find fertile ground for a renewed life next year. Some hide at the center of enticing fruits—indigestible and waiting to be pooped out later, at some distance away. Some seeds have become adept at latching onto animals’ coats and people’s pant legs—counting on help to spread their latent promise. Some simply count on the wind to blow them hither and yon.

Then last but (I’d like to believe) not least, Fall has its impact on us humans. For weeks in mid-to-late summer we fret over the lack of rain—watching one promising thunderstorm after another bypass us and dump on city folks, who just get annoyed by the showery inconvenience. Cheated of shower after shower, we water and water, in a struggle to keep plants healthy and growing. Now in the Fall those plants are preparing for dormancy. They no longer need water. We are reprieved!

Another wonderful gift of Fall to us is the disappearance of biting insects. We can once again pause and enjoy our surroundings, without being hassled by mosquitoes or gnats. Good riddance, suckers! I can now turn to more strenuous labors—cutting and gathering firewood, digging and transplanting, policing and cleaning the grounds—without heavily sweating and dehydrating myself in summer’s heat. My thoughts begin to turn towards indoor winter activities of writing and crafts.

Possibly the most iconic example of Fall for us is the return of the wood heating season. As plants enter their dormancy for winter, the woodstove is completing its summer dormancy. Thankful for my earlier labors that have seen a full winter’s supply of firewood set by, I’m ready to reawaken the stove for its frosty duties.

Welcome, Fall! You bring us such appreciated change.