Falling leaves herald start of an early autumn
THE whispering, rain-presaging poplar by the village pond has declared autumn.
Its leaves, attached as they are to stem and branch, wobble and hiss uniquely against each other in the slightest of breezes.
They make the sound of much-needed rain, but, as the leaves have curled and become em-brittled, the sound is suitably more staccato, more urgent.
It is the sound of heavy, thundery rain that, apart from the respite of one day, will not come.
The pond dried up, began to fill, then dries up again.
So autumn has been declared early, and what a shivery frisson of gossip there is among the leaves now.
Walking through the green, leaf-drop-shock of the drought-beleaguered beeches, the dog and I find a treasure each – a moulted buzzard feather for me, and a tennis ball for her.
It is a strange thing to be kicking through fallen green leaves in August, and the first week of September.
Some trees have browned; others, like the sycamores, with their wide, open palm-shapes, have shrivelled and folded into loose, weak fists.
The farm nectar strip may have suffered in the drought too this year, but has proven its worth to wildlife, retaining a damp green understory and moisture for insects, and hanging on to the rain when it fell.
At mum’s house, for a celebratory family meal, there is a second surprise; we are gathered for a barbecue in her garden, on the edge of woodland in the village, when there is a disturbance of the air or periphery or even a slight sound, that makes some of us turn our heads. Whatever it was makes me stand up.
Then, unmistakably, silently, in the dusky light, a goshawk comes cruising up the runway of mum’s little conifer-lined terrace, wings almost the whole width ofthe wide path, barred tail fanned like splayed knives, a limp woodpigeon dangling from a talon.
It sheers away and vanishes through an impossible gap in the trees, leaving us open-mouthed or exclaiming.
They are hereabouts. I’ve had perhaps four sightings and seen evidence over the years, but this? Incredible. And we all saw it. I am still gos-shocked and gos-awed.
Wild diary
Green Fest is back in Hampstead Norreys on Saturday, September 10, to help us all on the next steps to a more sustainable lifestyle.
https://www.ourgreenfest.co.uk/