The days have a different feel now. The enchantment of autumn comes upon us. The position of the sun gradually shifts southward, and the days are noticeably shorter. The sun is still hot, but overnight temps are cooler. A son points out that it smells like fall.
And it was cold Sunday night / Monday morning. We went to bed under a sheet, but Mike soon pulled up the blanket. A couple of hours later we were cold again, so I added the quilt AND turned on the electric blanket on low. It was 52 when we got up. That was just a hint of the seasonal change that’s coming because it was 64 this morning and 70 by 9:00. This will be another hot week.
But
that cold morning was enough to send the doves away. We saw plenty Sunday
afternoon, but Mike scouted Monday afternoon and didn’t see any. (The season
opens Sept. 1.) So often the way. They sense the change in the weather, and
they fly away.
I
guess it’s true of any season, but summer always seems to be over before it’s
over. I don’t know why we’re so quick to let summer’s activities go. We noticed
a week ago that attendance had fallen off at our favorite beach, even on the
hottest of days. I can only guess that families were busy with back-to-school
activities. I recently overheard a conversation where a man said, “Now that
summer is over, my routine has changed.” A woman countered, “Oh, but there’s
several more weeks . . .” He wasn’t having it, though. He said that things have
already changed, and I agree.
Harvest is late this year. I hear the machines working on fields to the east, but I won’t be able to see them from the house. Those fields were planted in the fall, and the crop seems decent. The fields slated to be planted last spring, ours included, could not be planted because the ground was too wet, so there is no harvest here, and I miss it.
At
least two hummingbirds are still here. I wasn’t going to refresh the nectar,
but one little guy got in Mike’s face and complained that the nectar was spoiling.
So demanding! I relented and made more.
Mike
made a trial run at parking the Jeep in the barn. It went well. I don’t know how
often he will park it there, but he wanted a safe place to park it during a
storm. KW
2 comments:
Nick noted some old hay somewhere in the barn and said it was a proper mouse hotel. I hope that your warm car engine does not entice the rodents to make themselves at home in your under carriage.
Yes, I am awaking to darkness at 6am and there isn't daylight for garden activities after dinner any more. Those two things make me a little sad for fall, but I'm excited to make soups and learn how to bake bread. :)
I'm jaded on the subject of mice, hay or no hay. The mice will find a way, even if they rip a roll of toilet paper or an afghan. However, don't worry about the car. This is an emergency parking garage for the occasional summer hailstorm. We won't be driving behind the barn in the winter or during mud season.
Obviously, the days have been getting shorter since the summer solstice, but it just seems to happen so quickly as Labor Day approaches. I think it's because it begins to impact our lives. I have to turn on a light as I fix supper now. And I enjoy noting these little changes in my routine until we return to standard time, and then it's no fun anymore. I guess I should say it's an adjustment.
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