First hard frost

We had our first hard frost of the season last night. The overnight low was in the mid 20s here in the hollow.

White-throated Sparrow, another sign of autumn

Another sign of the changing seasons. I heard the first song of White-throated Sparrow singing in the woods today. They have a beautiful, lyrical song, described as "Oh-sweet-canada-canada" or "Old-Sam-Peabody-Peabody." We heard them constantly while paddling and camping in Quetico Provincial Park this past June. White-throats spend the summer breeding in Canada and they winter in our woods here in the U.S.

Hickory nuts the squirrels left behind

This evening I returned home from the woods with a pocket full of hickory nuts that had somehow escaped the attention of the squirrels, or so I thought. Just a few minutes ago I got out the nutcracker and went through the bowl full of nuts, carefully breaking them open one by one. Not a single one had good nutmeat inside! I guess the discerning squirrels were able to tell this without even breaking them open. I am not so skilled.

Leaves of autumn

In these autumn woods,
green turning yellow above
and yellow turning brown below,
leaves pile upon the floor,
adding rustling and swishing sounds
and a deep, earthy perfume
to my walk among the trees.

I love the autumn woods!

Chatter in the hollow

Lots of chatter among the Barred Owls in the hollow tonight. It's enough to make a nervous person think the place is haunted. Maybe it's the nearly-full moon.

Coyotes & persimmons

I had heard before that coyotes were known to eat persimmons. Now I have proof positive. In the edge of the lawn, very near where the 3 coyotes entered the woods the other night, there is coyote scat full of persimmon seeds. You see they don't just eat neighborhood cats and small poodles!

Coyotes and the return of the wild

At 3:10 am last night I looked out the bathroom window just in time to watch 3 coyotes walking across the yard. I was thrilled! Their light coat barely stood out in the darkness. They moved across the yard as smoothly as shadows. Almost immediately they passed from view, but I picked them up again out the back window just before they slipped into the forest. I returned to bed content and happy just knowing the coyotes are out there.

I know coyotes don't have much of a fan club. Indeed, I am sure they are feared and vilified by most of my neighbors. But I am glad they're here in our woods. It is becoming increasingly clear to ecologists that most healthy ecosystems need a top predator (see Stolzenburg's Where the Wild Things Were for a summary the of current understanding). The wolves and cougars that once lived in the area are long ago (and likely forever) gone. Although less fierce and effective in the role of top predator, coyotes are beginning to fill the void.

For me the coyotes do something more. They bring something that cannot be measured in terms of biodiversity and the estimated ecosystem health. Coyotes return wild to the woods. When hiking alone at night, the howl of nearby coyotes first bring shivers and then a heightened alertness. I am reminded of all that is free and untamed and my walk becomes so much more than exercise or stress-relief.

Yosemite Coyote

I know the interface between predator and human is complicated. Homeowners in wild places need to take precautions to make sure they don't loose small pets or chickens. But coexistence with predators is possible. Personally, I believe that it it is not only possible, but desirable.

Helpful information on coexistence with coyotes in the Nashville area can be found at www.nashvillecoyotes.com.

On a related note, here is an interesting article about the breeding habits of urban coyotes published at ScienceDaily. Urban Coyotes Never Stray: New Study Finds 100 Percent Monogamy.

Cool morning

37º on the back porch at 6:30 this morning. Autumn is surely here.

Mushrooms on the beech

Surface of newly fallen dead beech log
(click for detail)

Sycamores and seasons

The light of autumn is still only changing subtly, but even now the leaves of the sycamore are turning from green to khaki. Soon they will cover the forest floor beneath their parent tree, piling up to create a deep, durable winter blanket. I'm not sure why, but I have always had an affinity to large, old sycamore trees. I look forward to winter when they slough off large, thin, brown patches and their remaining white trunks stand out like ivory towers in the forest. Ghost trees in the forest.

Tilt of the planet

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the dark summer forest lightens as our planet circles about the sun and slowly begins to tilt the other way to bring a change of season. Exhausted summer leaves drop and begin to accumulate, brown and dry upon the forest floor. Walking seems easier in the airy forest.

Here and there among the leaves above and below spots of color no longer green capture my gaze. More and more sunflecks pierce the thinning canopy, shining slow-moving spotlights upon a forest floor that for weeks and weeks has been mostly dark.Cottonwood leaves are dull and faded green up in the trees. Occasionally a rusty red sassafras leaf adds a brighter note on the floor. And in places you'll see tulip poplar leaves as yellow as any school bus or child's rain slicker.

It is becoming impossible not to think of autumn days ahead.

Corvidae and the fog

Blue Jays and Crows both fill the morning with their raspy calls. Clearly they are cousins. You can hear it in their voice.

Even as the corvid cousins help the coffee wake me to fuller consciousness, a dripping fog fills the yard flowing fluid down the hollow. For the moment the blue sky and the rising sun are obscured. It even seems to lightly rain as fog condenses and drips from the cool air.

There is a hint, a promise, of autumn in the air. Like a blanket, the morning fog and familiar corvids wrap the house in a sense of calm and well-being.

Beechdrops

I noticed a large population of Beechdrops (Epifagus virginiana) growing beneath an old beech tree on our trail today. At first glance they look like a dried herb gone to seed. If you look closely, however, you'll discover that the Beechdrop is actually in full bloom right now. Very curious plant.

Come to the woods

John Muir in 1907

"Come to the woods, for here is rest. There is no repose like that of the green deep woods. Here grow the wallflower and the violet. The squirrel will come and sit upon your knee, the logcock* will wake you in the morning. Sleep in forgetfulness of all ill. Of all the upness accessible to mortals, there is no upness comparable to the mountains." -- John Muir

*Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus)

Wilderness is at our doorstep

"I only went out for a walk, and finally concluded to stay out till sundown,
for going out, I found, was really going in." -- John Muir

I have come to the conclusion that I am a wandering homebody. A woodland wayfarer at heart, I love nothing more than hearth and home with my family. John Muir once described breaking away from the city and literally running into the mountains as if running for his very life. I hear the call of wild places, too. But I also know that days and years away from home is not for me. Fortunately, wilderness is at our doorstep.

Being often in wild places is vital to my sanity. I know that I am healthier when I can often get outside and feel the sun and the wind and the rain. I also know that wilderness is not limited to majestic far away lakes and mountains. One doesn't need to live next to a national park to walk daily in wild places. Getting away from the constant lights and noise of the city is good, but in a pinch anywhere outside will do, whether it be a city park, a nearby woods, or a forgotten hedgerow. The birds that visit my feeder are just as wild as those who live deep in the forest. The moss growing in a corner of the yard is home to a myriad of creatures that would take a lifetime to know, if only I would take the time to see.

The beauties of nature are not somewhere else, but all around us. All we must do is walk out the door and see. Go ahead! Walk out the door and experience the wonder. Nature is not far off. Wilderness is at our doorstep.