OCTOBER is . . . .
(Yeah, I said the same for May five months ago . . . .!)
The prairie grasses – big and little bluestem and Indiangrass - glow a soft, warm purple in the fading sunlight. Most prairie flowers have faded, leaving only tiny, bluish, stiff gentians hiding in the grass. Butterfly milkweed pods have burst, releasing their white, fluffy parachutes to carry their seeds on the breeze.
Frost creeps across the lawn at daybreak, forcing me to smile smugly at having remembered to tuck our clumps of lettuce under a protective blanket the night before. Indeed, the temperature dropped far enough to freeze the sugar-water in the hummingbird feeder. No problem, though, because the wise little hummers had already headed south the previous week.
Juncos now replace the hummingbirds, after leaving their summer homes in the coniferous forests of southern Canada.
Hundreds of majestic white pelicans often stage on the backwaters of Coralville Reservoir, loafing their way to the Gulf Coast from breeding areas on prairie lakes in southern Canada, the Dakotas, and Minnesota.
Small flocks of noisy blue jays join the migration. We wonder: Are some of these migrants the birds that will linger at our winter feeder – or local yokels that stick around anticipating a free lunch of sunflower seeds? None should go hungry now, given the bumper crop of acorns.
Northeast Iowa’s reputation for hillsides ablaze with the splendor of autumn leaves is well earned – although we seldom can predict the best times, places, or individual trees for the prime show. But the colors burst upon us these past few days, after a drab start. Our stand of black walnut trees began to show yellow flecks before Labor Day, then turned bright lemon for a week or so before dropping nearly all their leaves by the end of September.
The maples finally shine sun-gold, and reds tinge the edges of the oaks, foretelling an even more brilliant spectacle to come. If you’re looking for color, you shouldn’t have to look far, as Mother Nature will continue her woodland artistry for another week or so.
Look skyward, as well. Migrating raptors ride the north winds to warmer climes. We’ve seen kettles of broad-winged hawks, lone turkey vultures, wandering eagles, and clusters of red-tailed hawks. When the first rough-legged hawk drifts down from the tundra – as it should any day now – we’ll mark that as the end of the warm season.
Thus, we keep the parka handy, along with hat and gloves. But count on plenty of shirt-sleeve days.
We can take other clues from animals – even the woolly bear caterpillars. As kids, we knew them as woolly worms – but we did not know they were the larvae of Isabella tiger moths. The moths’ eggs hatch in the fall, leaving the caterpillars to overwinter under leaf litter. They produce a natural antifreeze that allows them to survive temperatures as low as -90 degrees F.
The coyotes may be celebrating the season, too. On a recent evening, three separate packs yipped and yowled in harmony (sort of!) less than a mile from our house.
Whitetail bucks feeling their oats have polished their antlers by thrashing tree trunks – including young oaks that I’d neglected to protect with cages or tubes. Pawed patches of bare dirt below mangled tree branches reveal scrapes where the bucks have left their scent to lure does who also have the mating urge.
And the moon! Ah, the moon! This year’s Harvest full moon fell at the end of September, while the Hunter’s full moon comes October 28. I might just join in the coyote chorus!
Thanks to the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative for reconnecting me with several old friends from my 25 years as outdoor water/photographer with the Des Moines Register from 1972 to 1997. Plus the group has helped me discover the talents and insights of a new (to me) set of writers. I enjoy sharing my Iowa roots, memories, observations, frustrations, and joys with those folks - and with readers.
I’m an Iowa farm kid who has never outgrown playing in the “crick.” Every kid should have that same opportunity to go outside and get muddy. And I can easily wax nostalgic about the wild places we have lost in my seven-plus decades on this planet. For more about where those times, people, and adventures have led me, here’s a link to my website.
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Loved it Larry!! And your timing couldn't have been better as we spent part of the weekend at Backbone. It was a glorious fall weekend in Iowa!
Kudos to Margaret, too, for the art work,.