What is it about my desire to post about the back lawn?
Maybe it’s because of the river birch as it slowly turns the color of fall, or the yellow leaves on the graceful turns of the foliage on the edge of the property.
Perhaps its the last of the apples to fall which haven’t been picked.
Or, it’s the late-season mushrooms that spring up in unexpected places.
It could be those crazy-cool squirrels, tails dancing as they dig to bury the nuts they later may find.
In a roundabout way, it could be the dwindling wood pile that will have to be topped up before the really cold weather hits.
One thing is for sure, it certainly, partially is the retiring of the mower as the grass hunkers down for the winter.
Maybe, in a time of bombast, it’s a reminder that the everyday scene I see just past my computer and the windows looking north is just that, not spectacular, certainly engaging, reminding me that slow change is sure change as the seasons change.
2 thoughts on “Season change”
While many of my friends make their annual pilgrimage to the shrines to autumn richness (like, New England), I’ve come to the prairies, and am looking around at about 40 kinds of grasses, thinking, “How in the world can I communicate this more subtle beauty when it’s the leafy bombast that appeals to most?”
Well, no matter. Your point’s exactly right. Slow change is sure change, and there’s great comfort in watching nature continue on with her yearly cycle, not minding at all whether she’s given recognition for it or not.
As for those squirrels: I saw white ones in Eureka Springs. I didn’t get a photo of the pure white one, but I do have a photo of the calico with the pure white tail. They’re not albinos, but genetic mutations, and, by the by, escapees from a long-ago circus. Life is more interesting than many people realize.
I’ve had contact with the “Class of 1984” of The Land Institute in Salina, Kansas, where there is ongoing research to help move farming to mimic the prairie, “perennial polyculture.” I think it was co-founder West Jackson who commented once that it takes a mindset to appreciate the beauty of the prairie. I was a groupie as my Janine my wife worked 10 months as an intern at “The Land,” as they called it. I caught a “contact high” kind of thing, even though I wasn’t formally a part of the crew. It was one of the best post-college things that could have happened to me. I’ll never have a pure lawn. It would be too depressing.