Into the sunrise, as we transition to fall

Somewhere in the distance the call of autumn can be heard. It’s faint and far-off right now, but it’s noticeable in small ways. There’s a change in the slant of the sun, and the air has a different smell. Some days dawn with warmth, and others have a cool chill – a sign of the seasonal change.

Even the call of the loons is different. It seems more lonely, especially as it rises above the steam coming off the lake. There will soon be a change in the migrating birds, both those coming and those leaving. The wood ducks have been sighted as they are passing through in their journey from north to south. The Canada geese have taught their young how to fly and soon, after their wings have strengthened significantly, they too will head south. With the rapidly decreasing daylight hours, the hummingbirds are active now in preparation for their departure. And the adult loons will soon be leaving, followed later by the juveniles.

There is a “weathered” color to the leaves now. The once-vibrant greens have faded, and we are starting to see hints of color. That symphony of color will only grow and crescendo in another four to six weeks. The steam will continue to rise off the lake in the mornings until the water temperature plummets below the air temperature.

It’s all a reminder to me of the passage of time, the preparation needed for the transition to winter, and the importance of appreciating each and every day and relishing the opportunity to embrace what is offered up to us.

Turning into winter

Today was a morning to pull out my warm winter coat, hat, and gloves for my daily walk. With a cold start to the dawn at 18 degrees, I was treated to tiny and intricate bits of frost decorating the fallen leaves. I marveled at our passing into yet another season, and couldn’t help but think back to warmer temperatures and a now-distant summer.

At the end of August we set out on a three-week camping trip. We left northwest Wisconsin and traveled through Minnesota, South Dakota, and Wyoming – admiring the landscape changes and the beauty that’s found in every state. We drove through prairies, sunflower fields, and canyons. We enjoyed sunsets and moon rises. We camped with family while in Utah, where I was fortunate to catch my first trout!

We took in the majesty of the relatively-snow-less Teton Mountain Range and we stood in awe of the immensity of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone.

We journeyed back through the big-sky state of Montana and finished our trip in the badlands of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park, with the fall colors beginning to appear alongside the Little Missouri River valley.

So on these clear cold days leading further into winter, I especially enjoy the chance to revisit and appreciate the warmth and expansiveness, as well as the beauty and the variety of landscapes that we enjoyed a mere two months ago as we journeyed west.

Fall flight

In my last post I promised to share images from our camping trip to the west. But that will have to wait – fall has arrived in all its glory here in northwestern Wisconsin. The colors started to turn in early October, but we then had a week of unusually warm weather both during the day and the night. With that, the change of colors seemed to stall. And then strong and gusty winds blew all the color onto the ground.

A second phase soon developed, and our rich autumn colors have progressed to peak. It is a glorious time to be out and about. Every road and every field is alight with color. The golds and yellows, reds and oranges, and the deep russet of the oaks – they are all appearing in a symphony of color right now.

With this there is a great migration of birds coming through and starting their journey south. The loons were gone by the first few days of October. The males left first and were followed later by the females, leaving the young ones to fend for themselves and then to head south on their own. It’s amazing to me that these loons that were only born a few months ago can navigate their way south by themselves.

The Canada geese and the wood ducks are gathering. The sandhill cranes are feeding in the harvested fields. Soon all of these will be leaving. The last birds to come through our area seem to be the hooded mergansers. They will arrive and yet leave a short time later. And then our lakes will start to freeze.

But this is the time to know that the cycle of seasons continues once again, and we can appreciate Mother Nature’s palette of colors before we transition to winter.

Autumn and other transitions

We have officially transitioned to fall with the autumnal equinox today. Our daylight hours become shorter and the darkness of night becomes longer. There’s a change in the air, and here in the North the sun is losing its intensity and its heat. The green leaves aren’t the same deep shade of green, and in many places the yellows, oranges, and reds are starting to dot our landscape.

I have also gone through a transition these past months, as we have sold our house in Minnesota and have moved to our cabin in northwest Wisconsin. Just as the days become shorter gradually, it became clear to us, gradually, that this move was in our best interests. And yet it’s hard to pack up and move from a house, a neighborhood, a community that you’ve been a part of for 20 years.

After the move we headed out on a 3-week camping trip – a chance to escape from packing and unpacking, loading and unloading. We took our 16-foot Scamp travel trailer and headed west through the Dakotas, Wyoming, Utah, and Montana. It was a grand adventure and an opportunity to explore our National Parks and forests and be in much different landscapes. I’m planning to share some of those images and stories in the future. The image in this post was from a week ago on a prairie in northwest Minnesota near the Red River Valley where the goldenrod was already in its fall display of yellow.

If you’re looking for a way to celebrate the autumnal equinox, I would suggest spending some time in nature – get out for a walk, breathe in the autumn air and notice the difference from even a month ago, and enjoy a sunset. Nature has a wonderful way of helping us through transitions as it is always cycling from one season to the next, from one sunrise to sunset to sunrise again.

Thankful

What a rich world we inhabit, with so many things to be thankful for! As our seasons change in the North it’s been wistful to say goodbye to the colors and brightness of fall. The leaves have fallen, allowing the sunlight to stream unhindered through the canopy of trees. The wind rustles branches rather than dried leaves. With a bench in a strategic spot, I paused on my walk in the woods to listen, to observe, to think.

And within a short span the calendar changed, the wind direction shifted, and winter slid in. November came and the winds blew cold coming out of the Canadian prairies and brought the snow. It was beautiful to watch it float down. The flakes silently landed on the trees. Others melted as they hit the water surface. For this moment the world was calm. And quiet. And beautiful.

With snow falling down around me, I gave a nod of thanks for the scene surrounding me and the changing seasons. Thankful for family and friends, near and far, and for those that came before me, and for all the love that surrounds me. Thankful for the paths I’ve followed, the adventures I’ve taken, and the lessons I’ve learned. Thankful for all the simple things – a roof over my head, clothes, heat, five working senses, and my health. I look forward to the lessons to be learned in this upcoming winter season.