Fall brings changes to our natural world — and to us

The autumnal equinox formally began the fall season at 3:21 p.m. on Sept. 22. This is when the sun’s direct rays shined on the equator with the sun at the halfway point between the summer and winter solstice.

The sun has since slowly focused on the Southern Hemisphere, bringing six months of summer there. The fall equinox has been celebrated around the world for millenniums, from gatherings at ancient pyramid shadow alignments in Central America to harvest festivals all over the world.

Fall brings changes in nature’s endless annual cycles, causing adaptations for personal transitions from summer ending to the cooler, shorter days of autumn. Wildlife and plants also react. Some of these changes bring us happiness, some the opposite. None are more visible than the leaves beginning to fall from deciduous trees after their showy change from green to their many colorful hues.

For some folks, it means raking and gathering these little miracles of nature for curbside pickup and mulching, and then the gray-brown bareness of winter — a downer.

But the glory of the autumnal tree rainbows brings joy to many, including millions of “leaf peepers” — no, not an insect, but people seeking the scintillating beauty of trees ablaze in the autumnal colors. Whether the Shenandoah mountains in Virginia or the forests of Maine, these leaf peepers are enjoying prime time now and support a major post-summer tourism industry.

To me, seeing leaves turn colors on deciduous trees and then lose their leaves and later grow new ones in spring is another of nature’s miracles. How can they do this and why? The mystifying answers can be found with a bit of online research.

Another obvious change is the cooler weather and shorter sunlight hours. The bright side is the hot, humid weather is gone and the cooler air refreshes the soul. Importantly, our a/c has been off for more than two months as our windows remain open with nature’s refreshing 100% renewable a/c flowing through our home. I have even resorted to wearing pajamas on some really cool nights. Another great benefit is that at night we can hear Great Blue Herons squawking, red foxes barking, and Great Horned Owls and Screech Owls calling as fall is owls’ dating and mating special time.

Fall also means the eventual end of lawn mowing with my electric mower, another good change.

The downside is that my treasured crabbing from my pier ends as these crustaceans leave the creek to go down the bay for the winter. We are still catching a few knowing it will be a long winter without our crab feasts on our deck overlooking Oyster Creek.

Also on the downside is less sunlight each day, meaning and end to our dinners on the deck we enjoy well into the summer night. This gives us less opportunity to observe the birds we love to have join us as I always have my binoculars nearby and Carol has her camera.

Another fall change that saddens me is the disappearance of the Ospreys as they wing their way south migrating to South America where fish abound. Some reach Bolivia, 3,800 miles away. I have still been seeing one or two with their majestic flights over us and I quietly wish them well on their long journey. With their young fledged, I had been sighting nine or 10 regularly every day in late August. They symbolize how bold actions in conservation can bring back a species, in their case the 1972 ban on DDT and protections under federal law. We will miss them and await their return in March.

Our chances have diminished for a three heron day, when we can see Great Blue, Green, and Blackcrowned Night herons. Already departed are the Barn Swallows, Chimney Swifts, and Purple Martins that have been insect-plucking like fighter jets, sometimes close to our heads. And the Royal and Forster’s terns and Laughing Gulls calling over our creek will soon be winging south.

Now, we await the arrival of our wintering waterfowl already on their long flights from as far as Arctic Alaska where Tundra Swans breed in summer.

I will be listening in chilled air for these majestic flying machines overhead, perhaps while raking leaves and gumballs in my front yard. Air whistling through the wings of these swans in V-shaped flocks flying overhead can be heard even when the bird is 100 feet above, hence their nickname of whistling swan.

More often, we detect their arrival with their singular high-pitch soft whooping oo-oo-oo. I am even married to a Swan, Carol Swan.

Ruddy Ducks and Buffleheads will be with us for the winter, often the first arrivals, later joined by Canvasbacks, Scaup, Redhead Ducks, and Scoters. My favorite winter visitor on our creek is the male Hooded Merganser — what a beauty! You can see why I look for them every winter day and saw a raft of 17 last winter.

White-tailed deer abound as does have made it through the summer and polygamous males are in a rut.

The downside is that these overabundant animals cause Lyme disease from their deer ticks, eat Carol’s garden flowers, and stunt growth of new trees in forested areas. Squirrels are also more active storing acorns and other food for the long winter. Be careful and give wildlife a break while driving.

Carol and I have joined migrating birds but only for shorter sojourns to see our favorite young animals of all — our three wonderful grandkids when we fly to Naples, Florida inside giant birds with large wings called airplanes or appropriately named gas-hawks by birders. We flock there in November for Thanksgiving and during dreary winter days in March.

I organize eco-expeditions with the kiddies and their friends, searching for birds, alligators, snakes, turtles, and even otters. We saw 84 alligators in the wild in one such exploration and finding my favorite bird, the Roseate Spoonbill, is always a special treat. Being outdoors, seeing all the green with palms and flowers and being with family is the perfect antidote for refreshing one’s sprits.

We will not allow COVID-19 to damper our connections to the natural world and all its wonders and to family.