But if you do know what is taught by plants and weather, you are in on the gossip and can feel truly at home. The sum of a field’s forces [become] what we call very loosely the ‘spirit of the place.’ To know the spirit of a place is to realize that you are a part of a part and that the whole is made of parts, each of which is whole. You start with the part you are whole in.
~ Gary Snyder
Yesterday I read a poem by Barbara Crooker titled And Now It’s October. It begins:
the golden hour of the clock of the year.
I thought of it when I stood out at the Point yesterday evening watching the sunset. It is, I think, a good description of this time of year. There is, of course, more to October than gold. October brings us a whole array of hues and shades and shadows and light.
The birds came out of their hiding places when the winds calmed yesterday. It was good to see and hear them again. I was telling M that I like the birds of fall and winter, maybe because I can see them. The summer birds are shy and hide in the thickets and thick leaf cover of the trees. I hear them, a symphony of songs, throughout the summer months, but rarely spot them. Our winter birds are extroverts, possibly because they have to be. There are fewer places for them to be camouflaged and concealed. Plus food becomes scarce during the winter months, and the birds don’t have time for that camouflage nonsense.
Songbirds and raptors migrate through here in October, just as they did during the spring months, so you never know what you might spot. They say the Delmarva Peninsula acts as a funnel, channeling the migrating birds to our forests, marshes, meadows, and shores. I have seen a few American Kestrals out and about. They are here year-round, but I rarely see them until the fall months. I heard a hawk whistle and an eagle piping while out on my walk today. The resident rabbits are making themselves scarce, a sure sign the birds of prey are back.
The Laughing Gulls, which we associate with spring, are now flying around in large flocks, getting ready to migrate south for the winter. There were hundreds of them flying over the water at the Point last evening. You can see a few in the above images. I had a difficult time capturing them with the camera. Most were way out over the water, probably past the river and over Tangier Sound.
You might have noticed the water on the road in the first few photographs. I was there about 90 minutes before high tide, and during that time the water continued to rise and cover the road in front of me. I noticed on the way down to the point that the water was coming up over the road in various spots so I kept an eye on the road behind me just to be sure I could get out.
The road shown above was covered with water at the low spots by the time I left. I watched an early broadcast of the local news yesterday and they were interviewing a local sheriff, asking why the flooded roads in his town were not closed, and he said that this type of flooding happens all the time during unusually high tides, and people just drive through it. There is no danger because the water moves in and out slowly. A rise and fall rather than a rushing in. The sheriff was of the opinion that the biggest problem with people driving through the low-lying flooded areas comes from those who drive too fast through it, causing waves that wash up on people’s property where the water might not otherwise go. Maybe they should put up “No Wake” signs.
Today is one of those wispy clouds and blue sky days. Or it was. I think most of the clouds have cleared out by now. I spent a little time crawling around in the woods admiring the mushrooms. Most of the water has receded from the trails, and the land is like a sponge around here, drying up quickly. There are still a few puddles on the main path through the woods. I’m sure our woods were flooded around the same time the flooding was taking place at the Point. The tide looked pretty high this morning, too, but not as high as yesterday.
Time for me to head back outside and enjoy the good weather while it’s here. Thank you for stopping by today. I think I will watch the sunset from the dock this evening. It’s at 6:38 this evening. Join me if you like. We’ll need to be there at least twenty minutes early since there are trees on the horizon and that means the sun will “set” sooner than when we’re out at the Point.
Be good, be kind, be loving. Just Be. 🙂
Reminder: If you’re participating in Walktober, please post your pingback or link to your post here. You have until midnight of October 25, although if you need more time, let me know. I’ll gladly extend it. (Click on the Walktober widget in the sidebar to the right if you are unfamiliar with the Walktober event. It will take you to last year’s post about it. One of these days I’ll get around to making a Walktober page.) Also, it is my goal to post my walks nearly every day this month, but please don’t feel like you have to keep up with me. I know how time consuming it can be to keep up with other bloggers, especially those who post daily. I’m happy enough seeing you when you have the time.
Today’s joys: The bluest blue of the sky; the pine scent in the woods; a Pileated Woodpecker in the backyard where I could actually see him (I hear him in the woods frequently, but this is the first time I’ve seen him); hibiscus tea; working in the garden (and finding that not all of the lupines have disappeared into the weeds).