There’s something about fall days that sets them apart from the other seasons, something about the way they feel and how precious each of them is, because I never know if it will be the last before the colors on the palette dry up for good, or at least for another year. Unlike winter, whose days seem to flow one into the other without much variation in the landscape, and high summer, when green seems to have permanently ensconced itself in all its hues. Autumn thrills daily, especially once the leaf change is well under way. And so I cherish each and every one of those days for the unique gift that it is.
Outside, nature moves ahead with her plan to give the trees and other green things a break and a much-needed rest, gently urging them on as they release foliage that would only become a burden during the cold, harsh months of winter when they need all the energy reserves they can muster to make it through. Squirrels and chipmunks scurry about gathering their stores for the coming season. The birds, which I haven’t seen much of these past summer months, remember that I’m here, ready to put out seed and suet to help them through the next few challenging months when their usual forage will be scarce.
Inside, from where I observe all of these goings-on, I decide to bake biscuits. Seems a fitting thing to do on a chilly, fall day, so I reach into my cupboard for some baking powder and take the lid off my flour canister. I cut the chilled butter cubes into the flour then pour in buttermilk, and it occurs to me how I, too, forage and hoard much like the creatures that have visited my porch or moved about the perimeter of my space this past year. Despite the fact that my sporadic excursions involve things like recyclable tote bags, coupons and a grocery cart, the process and its end are the same ”“ putting away stores against the future when I may not be able to get out and about to forage to my heart’s content.
In a very similar way, my life is as much about staying warm, fed and safe as it is for the squirrels and deer, the raccoons, foxes, chickadees and crows. The dynamic may be different, but we share the same needs and goals, and this makes us all part of an interdependency wherein I help them and they return the favor by brightening my day, but that’s just half the story.
For all creatures have roles within the greater natural scheme. Birds consume harmful insects, pollinate flowers and drop the seeds of thousands of species of plants here and there in their journeys. As for the mammals, their digging aerates the soil and their droppings fertilize it, making it possible for these plants to grow and thrive. So be it far from me to begrudge them a few dollars’ worth of seed or a stale loaf of bread and the bit of effort it takes to place it within their reach. It’s the least I can do for all the joy they provide me and for reminding me daily of how small my own image is in a much broader picture.
— Rachel Lovejoy, a freelance writer living in Lyman, who enjoys exploring the woods of southern Maine, can be reached via email at rachell1950@yahoo.com.
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