Watching the sunrise over a (mostly) still lake. Late summer haze blankets the horizon. Trees mutter to each other about the need for water even as I imagine they are sharing water among their roots.
The birds of summer go lazily about their business but occasionally now there are early fall migrants passing through. One day it’s Forster’s terns with their long white tails. Parents with youngsters. Adults diving for fish and feeding the grateful young who have been staying close by.
The next day five great egrets arrive. The young blue heron who has staked a claim to this cove is not thrilled to see them. He is trying to exercise his full heron-like nature by filling the space and chasing off all who would share the land. The egrets seem amused - but not willing to completely give up the space to the kid. Not quite yet. One egret has claimed the large cove to my south and is NOT SHARING, so everyone else is jostling for position in the cove to my north.
On one tree I find the young heron, an egret and a juvenile turkey vulture. I’m not sure who among these large birds is more uncertain about sharing the branches, but it seems to be the turkey vulture. They let me hang out for a bit before each one took off.
The egret spreads those whiter-than-white wings and as he flies he drops a feather on the shore. I don’t remember ever being gifted a feather so directly. A pristine, white wing feather nearly 10 inches (25 cm) long. I watch the egret glide over the landscape and land on the other side of the reeds. Graceful, powerful and full of spirit.
Egrets and herons are graceful and awkward at the same time. Huge, powerful wings and a ridiculous squawk to show their displeasure at your presence. Sometimes they make me laugh with awkardness and other times I am in awe of their presence. That glorious neck can be fluid and extended or scrunched up to near invisibility.
Herons and egrets know how to hold their space and even the youngsters are learning quickly. When they are staking out a claim, they do this slow walk with their beak pointing in the air as if to say “I don’t even acknowledge your presence, I am king here”. Then they will turn on a dime and lunge toward the interloper. Sometimes this results only in a slight hop and other times in an airborne chase.They are expert boundary setters.
The days are hazy and we need rain as the drought conditions are taking a toll on everyone, but the mornings are cooler and the sun rises almost an hour later than mid-summer. It’s easier to get enough sleep and I no longer go to sleep before the sun sets.
I am missing my time sitting on the ground. My body aches to be in contact with the Earth again. This morning I sat for a few minutes, knowing that sitting too long will increase pain. Soon though, soon. My muscles are loosening a bit every day. Soon I will sit on the ground again and feel her vibration. Soon - I hope - I will sit and let birds land nearby.
The transition from summer to fall is languid. In spring every bird is in a hurry to get to their breeding grounds and even the trees seem eager to get on with the growth of summer. Fall is the time for meandering. For exploring. For the curious birds that wander to unexpected places, like the limpkin that’s been seen across town (only the 8th time the species has ever been spotted in Missouri). Where spring brings glorious colors, fall can bring unexpected treasures.
The older I get the more I think fall is my season. A time to slow down and savor what remains. A time for curiosity and joy. A time for breathing deeply and letting go. I’m ready for fall - but there’s no need to hurry.
Fall is my favorite time of the year as it reminds me that nothing lasts forever. Yet, after this dying comes the sleep of winter followed by the rebirth of Spring, followed by the maturing of Summer, followed by fall-my favorite time of the year because nothing lasts forever. I, continually, have hope that at least some of the terrible things happening in the world will die away and become the fertilizer for a more beauty filled world. Karen, your pictures and musings are part of what continues to give me that hope.
Yes hot and dry until recently 😳🙄🤷🏻♀️