Autumn? mum's the word #phenology

The full Harvest Moon has been cloud-shrouded the past couple of nights. We may miss seeing that big orange globe this year, but we have some photos that can serve as a fall-back. This may also turn out to be one of those years when we never get to see a woolybear caterpillar. That would be even more of a disappointment, or it could turn into a good reason to head for Wild River State Park next week, to see if there's woolybears crossing those roads.

Harvest moon 2014

Photo by J. Harrington

Speaking of road crossings, over the past week or so we've seen more dead opossums on the local roads than we remember ever seeing before. We're not sure what's going on unless the local possum population has reached some kind of peak. On a more cheerful note, flocks of what we think may be juncos have been erupting from the roadsides over the past few days. Blackbirds are flocked up and chittering from local corn fields. We noticed them today as we were taking the snow blower in for pre-season maintenance and stopped to make sure the tie-down straps hadn't come loose on the trailer. (Most years we forget to deal with this human phenological sign until after Thanksgiving or the first blizzard of the season, whichever comes first.) So it looks as though seasonal migrations are underway.

chrysthanthemums along drive, 2013

Photo by J. Harrington

Last, and certainly far from least, this year's handful of potted chrysthanthemums are now sitting along the edge of the drive. We'll be happy to let the Better Half and/or the Daughter Person decide where they'll live, but we feel better, and more in the spirit of the season, now that we have our autumn mums brightening the drive. We've been doing that for some years now and it's almost become a tradition.

                     October

By Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild,

Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;

Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,

Should waste them all.

The crows above the forest call;

Tomorrow they may form and go.

O hushed October morning mild,

Begin the hours of this day slow.

Make the day seem to us less brief.

Hearts not averse to being beguiled,

Beguile us in the way you know.

Release one leaf at break of day;

At noon release another leaf;

One from our trees, one far away.

Retard the sun with gentle mist;

Enchant the land with amethyst.

Slow, slow!

For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,

Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,

Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—

For the grapes’ sake along the wall.

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