Despite the hot temperatures in Kansas this week, fall is peeking over the Great Plains. Milo and sunflowers have yet to be harvested and much of the winter wheat is planted. At our house we have begun our own preparations for fall and winter. I have begun cutting and splitting firewood. Arrangements have been made with the hay man for the horses and goats. Mimi will winterize the swimming pool. We must replace the back door that faces north.
This morning I was cutting a locust tree that had died on the corner of my pasture. Though dead it proved itself against my chain-saw and me. It is hard wood, which is why people like to use it for fencing. Resting between cuttings I sat and listened to the wind and the Blue Jays. Above me the Monarch Butterfly flitted silently from branch to branch. I suppose they and other migrants are beginning their seasonal journey. I have seen large flocks of Nighthawks.
Frost and ice are quite late in Alaska this year. The walruses are required to swim onto beach fronts to rest. Normally they would clamber onto an ice-flow and take their rest from feeding. But the ice is not there and they crowd themselves onto the sand. Sometimes in a panic, and the least little thing will startle them, they stampede and crush younger ones. Over a hundred were killed in such a fright the other day. Resting on beaches also means that they must swim farther to find food. I think their future is as precarious as the Polar Bear's.
Yes, the season is changing, like the climate. But I am not sure it is as innocent as red and orange maple leaves, apple cider, and pumpkin pie.
