9.14.16 The ancient power of seasons

Lately, mornings have grown cool and nicely damp and later, as our earth turns on its axis and our seasons continue their shifts. Lately, the insects are changing behaviors as early fall raises its head, and up over the Mt. Holyoke Range, the spectacular annual convergence of raptors has begun.
     They come together, somehow tolerating close proximity , in preparation for so many to migrate, each mated pair hoping that the summer-long efforts with their precious young ones has paid off , and flying endurance and feeding capability is finely honed, at the ready. 

     Lately we have had a flock of perhaps two hundred Grackles, roosting in our tall trees at night, feeding in various fields and woods during the day, practicing carefully their synchronized flying to ensure the congruence of flock function, for the Great Journey.
I step out my back door and hear them rustling in the trees, then take off, the flock so like glistening black waves.
     I watch the vegetable plants come to their fruition , the herbs and perennials beginning to set the seed that insects and birds and small rodents will feed on all winter long.
     It's like we've been dancing through spring, through summer...
     Through long languorous rainstorms and longer still periods of too dry spells , where everything just hangs on.
     We've been dancing through the growing season and now, the music shifts, the tempo changes. We feel it in our bodies.
     The infinitesimal changes in light from the sun travels in through our eyes into our brains, initiating changes in our body fat production and nutrient assimilation, as our physiology moves into wise winter prep mode.
     The trees are listening and chipmunks gathering and foxes moving their kits and coyote packs coming back on in and Bears chowing down .
     I love the inimitable ancient power of seasons, moving mountains and changing gears as we surf this one out.

9.14.16 The eye and the brain

"Because of the finite velocity of light, and the delay in neural messages reaching the brain, we always see the past. Our perception of the sun 
is over eight minutes late; all we know of the furthest object visible to the unaided eye (The Andromeda Nebula) is so out of date that we see it 
as it was a million years before we appeared on earth. “ 
         R.L.Gregory Eye and Brain, The Psychology of Seeing

9.13.16 Intricate

Such intricacy in life .

9.13.16 Beautiful

Such small beautiful fall blossoms

 

9.13.16 Tiny quiet lives

As big as your finger nail. 

Tiny quiet lives.

9.13.16 Upon all things

Yesterday we had the tail end of some very nice rains, soaking the dry earth a bit, leaving everyone in celebration. During the day the dry resumed, despite the reprieve, yet some moisture lingered. Mixed up with the cool night, with September's propensity to come up morning dew. 
     And so here we finally have our thick deep morning fog, swept about in waves 

as if an ocean . Pressed down from the range's summits, rolled down through 

all ravines, farther still along the hills of this conservation field, out through 

the vast outwaters, on into the broad Connecticut.

This morning, the sun rose upon all things thick as soup and fogged

 

Swirling about the fall Aster, the mountain of a plant it is now, thirst quenched and petals wetted.