The shadows of morning linger long on the lawn now. Our trees block a lot of light but that will change soon, as leaves are starting to shed. It takes longer for clothes to dry on the line because sun doesn’t reach there until nearly noon.
We still see a few blackbirds but the swallows are long gone, and the birds we hear are mostly geese getting ready for their annual trek to places where the sun sticks around longer. Our lone hummingbird hasn’t been seen for weeks, so the feeder is put away. We have enough wasps without any bait to bring them to the deck.
I made a run to my home line camp this week and noted a lot of color coming on along highway two. It made me want to take a day trip north to the Hills. The contrasts of fall are always more pronounced in the higher country but on our county road, topping the last hill before the highway offers a wide view of fields in different patterns that is pretty amazing too.
I used to wonder why schools celebrate homecoming in the fall but, on second thought, it makes perfect sense. Everything wants to gather up, this time of year. Cattle begin hanging out on the homeward side of summer pastures, waiting for someone to let them move closer to where winter feeding will happen. It’s generally not much of a hassle to move the herd to fall range; mostly a matter of opening the gate and following the stragglers.
Wildlife is less wary, and all manner of visitors wander closer to human habitation. Coyotes sing in the meadow close enough to wake us out of sound sleep, and when Bruce goes lets the dogs out for their last run before bedtime, he takes a light and often sees deer in the lane.
I came through a neighbor’s yard the other night after dark, and noticed movement next to their shop. “Slow down,” I told myself. “You don’t want to run over their yellow cat—wait, do they even have a yellow cat?” What crossed the road in front of me was a coyote pup. That’s the third one I’ve seen this week within a half mile of their place, the others around mid-day.
Last week we were eating dinner (note to townies, dinner is at noon in the country) when Bruce looked out the window and saw a coyote coming up the lane between the house and barn. It too was a young one, and still stupid, because he ambled along slowly, stopping to sniff and look around, giving Bruce time to slip out the door with a firearm. We lose way too many cats to need coyotes in the yard, and our dogs are braver than they should be for their size. A few years ago, after a challenge had been issued, a coyote chased one of them clear up onto our deck.
As days get shorter, the dogs are more inclined to stay indoors and so am I. But we’re on the cusp of change and the changes are mostly happening outdoors. There’s time enough to huddle with your blankie and a book when the blizzards come. For now, get out there and breathe in the scent of fall.