The calendar and the outdoors are both telling us summer is nearly over F

all officially starts next week with the annual Autumnal Equinox occurring on Sept. 22. You don’t need a calendar, though, to feel the subtle changes in the Tehachapi Mountains as summer gives way to fall.

The word “equinox” is formed by combining the Latin words for “equal” (aequus) and “night” (nox). So the word means “equal night,” and refers to the fact that on both the Spring Equinox and the Autumnal Equinox, day and night are of virtually equal length. Not exactly, but on those two days, each is about 12 hours long.

September has been described as the month when the heat of summer meets the chill of autumn, and in Tehachapi that has already been the case, as daytime temperatures in the high 80s are paired with nighttime lows in the high 40s.

So, sweating in a short-sleeved shirt in the afternoon, shivering in a jacket in the early morning. This is not an uncommon occurrence in the Tehachapi Mountains.

The natural world has started to respond to the impending end of summer.

Most insects have undergone whatever metamorphosis they’re going to for this year, and have also been laying eggs for next year’s generation(s).

Although there are many exceptions, most insects’ entire lifespan only lasts for one year or less. And their adult stage may only be for a few weeks or even a few days.

I encountered a praying mantis last week, a gravid female whose belly was large with eggs. She was no doubt about to create the durable oothecae, or egg cases that praying mantids use to house their babies over the winter.

These resemble a small, domed-shaped blob of rootbeer foam, which the female attached to a plant stem, tree branch, wooden fence post, or some other sturdy place where the egg case can unobtrusively wait out the winter without being noticed.

The last clutches of young birds have fledged, and I think in some ways they have a harder time than their earlier counterparts. The last ravens to be produced in a year seem like they are the smallest, for example, and when I see them drinking water from a puddle or scrounging a meal, I have to glance twice to make sure they aren’t actually their smaller relatives the crows.

And I always do look carefully if I think I see crows, since they are highly uncommon up in the

Tehachapi Valley and higher surrounding mountains. Ravens are

Jon Hammond has written for Tehachapi News for more than 30 years. Send email to tehachapimtnlover@gmail.com.

JON HAMMOND / FOR TEHACHAPI NEWS The mother mantis will search for a sturdy but inconspicuous place to put her oothecae.

JON HAMMOND / FOR TEHACHAPI NEWS I ran across this alligator lizard while running a string mower, and I picked it up to move it to safety. It repaid the favor as alligator lizards typically do: by biting. They also have the charming defense strategy of smearing the contents of their cloaca on you, though this one happily did not.

JON HAMMOND / FOR TEHACHAPI NEWS This skipper butterfly pauses in a shrub oak. These small, energetic butterflies land in a shrub with leaves approximately the same size as their wings, they hold their wings firmly closed, and the skippers closely resemble a dead leaf, with even their wing veins resembling leaf veins.

JON HAMMOND / FOR TEHACHAPI NEWS A wild sunflower lifts its pretty face toward the sun, filtered lately through a layer of California wildfire smoke.