Tints of Autumn

Lots of recent action around the pond. Our little enclave is on the insect interstate. Migrating monarch butterflies constantly pass through, their internal compasses pointing south.

The tints of autumn are becoming more vivid and the air a bit more crisp. Hints to migrating critters that it’s time to go. And for local residents to find a cozy den in which to wait out the chilly gray tones of winter.

A dozen mallards splashed down on the pond a short time ago. They’ll find a quiet overnight nest in the high grass at the edge of the pond. And wing off at sunrise. No doubt dropping a few gratuities into the pond as they leave. Such is their ilk. Or whatever. We run a poop and go establishment, ilks and all.

A daily invasion of flickers has been occupying the front yard. Picnicking on Autumn’s annual gift of fallen seeds. A few robins, who seem to loiter in the north longer each year, prospect for worms among the flickers. Avian integration. And Mother Nature’s signal that she enjoys a longer summer too.

Our noisy downstairs neighbor, Chuck, continues to waddle his way every morning from beneath our porch floor to the abandoned drain pipe beyond the yard. I continue to suspect that he shelters a concubine there. But what do I know of rodentine love life? Or care to.

Falling acorns beat a loud paradiddle on the decks and roof of the house. An embarrassment of riches to the local squirrel and chipmunk population. A harbinger of an angry Jack Frost’s winter wrath? Perhaps. We shouldn’t complain. The upper mid-west is now getting three feet of snow, according to the weather gods of NOAA. As I loll in shorts and a t-shirt while soaking up the mild rays of a northeastern September sun. Downright shameful. Well, maybe not.

After an unexplained two week absence, the deer are back. Not that they owe me an explanation. Yesterday four does and two of this year’s fawns grazed past the porch and the pond before disappearing into the woods. A solitary spike buck sauntered through an hour later. Bad timing. Poor guy won’t meet any ladies that way. This afternoon, two does walked by within a few feet of the porch. They began to snack on my lovely bride’s mums. Bad idea. Very bad.

Incidentally, all of the deer have now doffed their beautiful rust red summer garb for the more somber gray browns of winter. In a couple of months, they’ll be digging in the snow, looking for those acorns the squirrels have hidden.

And the grand finale‘. A beautiful eight point buck joined us just before sunset. He loped along the north side of the pond and past the ledge. No loitering by his royal buckness as he quickly disappeared into the woods. No doubt to rendezvous with his personal harem, it being the onset of rutting season.

Love in the afternoon.