Linda's For the Birds: The Turning of the Seasons
Photo courtesy of Linda Gangi
by Linda Gangi
Can you feel it? No, not the earthquake, although I must say I did feel that and I wasn’t happy about it. I’m talking about the transition of summer into autumn. Can you sense it happening? This morning as I peered out the window shortly after sunrise, I could feel the stillness, the cool air. I could see the seed pods on the Rose of Sharon bush (I know it’s an invasive) and hear the chorus of cicadas.
Every year at this time a melancholy envelops me and I try to understand the feeling. When I lived up north and visited DeKorte Park in Lyndhurst almost daily, the feeling was quite powerful. Large flocks of egrets gathered in the impoundments, the swallows that were so active had gone, and the goslings were now grown. I sensed that something had ended, that the earth was resting, waiting. A few weeks ago I noticed the grackles and starlings flocking together and the hummingbirds began dueling over the feeder in my back yard. I knew then that it had begun.
Can you feel it? No, not the earthquake, although I must say I did feel that and I wasn’t happy about it. I’m talking about the transition of summer into autumn. Can you sense it happening? This morning as I peered out the window shortly after sunrise, I could feel the stillness, the cool air. I could see the seed pods on the Rose of Sharon bush (I know it’s an invasive) and hear the chorus of cicadas.
Every year at this time a melancholy envelops me and I try to understand the feeling. When I lived up north and visited DeKorte Park in Lyndhurst almost daily, the feeling was quite powerful. Large flocks of egrets gathered in the impoundments, the swallows that were so active had gone, and the goslings were now grown. I sensed that something had ended, that the earth was resting, waiting. A few weeks ago I noticed the grackles and starlings flocking together and the hummingbirds began dueling over the feeder in my back yard. I knew then that it had begun.
Photo courtesy of Linda Gangi
Now you might think I’m crazy. You are probably saying to yourself, “For goodness sake, Linda, don’t rush the season, it’s only the end of August.” But I guess that is the point. I have no control over the seasons. I couldn’t rush it if I tried. The wheel of the year is turning and we have to just go along for the ride.
I like to follow the ancient Celtic calendar because it seems more in tune with nature. Autumn began around August 1st coinciding with the first harvest. Winter began at the end of October around Halloween, a time to honor the dead and herald in the cold weather and the New Year. February 1st or 2nd was the beginning of spring as the buds began to push up through the thawing earth.
I like to follow the ancient Celtic calendar because it seems more in tune with nature. Autumn began around August 1st coinciding with the first harvest. Winter began at the end of October around Halloween, a time to honor the dead and herald in the cold weather and the New Year. February 1st or 2nd was the beginning of spring as the buds began to push up through the thawing earth.
Photo courtesy of Sue Puder
Summer here begins in June when the sun has reached its highest point in the Northern Hemisphere; the Celts began it May 1st at the beginning of its ascent. This always made more sense to me. Rather pagan of me you might be thinking, but the so called pagans didn’t know they were pagans. They just followed the ebb and flow of the seasons. They weren’t concerned with Memorial Day or Labor Day. They needed to know when to plant and when to harvest. Their lives depended on it.
As birders, we acknowledge the bird migrations that occur year round. In Southern New Jersey during August, birders flock to Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge and Cape May for the shorebird migration. Hawk migration is starting now and birders are reporting their sightings along the state’s many hawk watches. Warblers are on the move, and very soon people will be lining up in Cape May’s Higbee field trying to learn their confusing fall plumage. All around us it is happening. What do these birds sense? Do they sense the same thing I sense when I look out the window in the morning? What exactly is that?
As birders, we acknowledge the bird migrations that occur year round. In Southern New Jersey during August, birders flock to Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge and Cape May for the shorebird migration. Hawk migration is starting now and birders are reporting their sightings along the state’s many hawk watches. Warblers are on the move, and very soon people will be lining up in Cape May’s Higbee field trying to learn their confusing fall plumage. All around us it is happening. What do these birds sense? Do they sense the same thing I sense when I look out the window in the morning? What exactly is that?
Photo courtesy of Sue Puder
The feeling is elusive to me, not to them. They know exactly what it means and they know what they have to do. It is time to migrate, time to leave before the cold weather is upon them. I envy their connection to the earth and its rhythms. I don’t believe humans have totally lost that connection. I think it is just a bit muddled. Too much TV, too much internet, too much noise distracts us and we forget that just like the birds we are part of the whole. We are not separate, witnessing it from afar. The ache I feel this time of year tells me that something innate deep inside is responding to the changes.
There are many different kinds of birders out there, so I can’t speak for all, only myself really, but I think there is something about birding that calls to our inner longings, our attachment to the earth and all living things. While you are birding this season, don’t just look at the birds, look at the whole, feel it, live it; they do and so should we. Be present as nature works her wonders, don’t just be a spectator.
I recently began reading a book called Slow Time, by Waverly Fitzgerald. It’s about reconnecting to natural time, not time dictated by our clocks. Here is a link to her website if you are interested: http://www.livinginseason.com/
There are so many great places to watch the migration, and it’s happening now. These are some of my favorites:
http://www.fws.gov/northeast/forsythe/
http://www.birdcapemay.org/
http://www.meadowblog.net/
http://www.njaudubon.org/SectionBirdingSites/MontclairHawkWatch.aspx
http://www.njaudubon.org/SectionBirdingSites/RaccoonRidgeHawkWatch.aspx
http://www.fykenature.org/celeryfarm.html
http://www.merrillcreek.com/
http://www.fws.gov/northeast/greatswamp/
http://www.njaudubon.org/SectionCenters/SectionScherman/TheSanctuary.aspx
There are many different kinds of birders out there, so I can’t speak for all, only myself really, but I think there is something about birding that calls to our inner longings, our attachment to the earth and all living things. While you are birding this season, don’t just look at the birds, look at the whole, feel it, live it; they do and so should we. Be present as nature works her wonders, don’t just be a spectator.
I recently began reading a book called Slow Time, by Waverly Fitzgerald. It’s about reconnecting to natural time, not time dictated by our clocks. Here is a link to her website if you are interested: http://www.livinginseason.com/
There are so many great places to watch the migration, and it’s happening now. These are some of my favorites:
http://www.fws.gov/northeast/forsythe/
http://www.birdcapemay.org/
http://www.meadowblog.net/
http://www.njaudubon.org/SectionBirdingSites/MontclairHawkWatch.aspx
http://www.njaudubon.org/SectionBirdingSites/RaccoonRidgeHawkWatch.aspx
http://www.fykenature.org/celeryfarm.html
http://www.merrillcreek.com/
http://www.fws.gov/northeast/greatswamp/
http://www.njaudubon.org/SectionCenters/SectionScherman/TheSanctuary.aspx
Previous Exclusives:
- Linda's For the Birds: Cool Places: The Lighthouse Center
- Linda's For the Birds: The Pygmy Pines
- Linda's For the Birds: Our Industrious Wrens
- Linda's For the Birds: The Elusive Catbird
- Linda's For the Birds: Hummingbirds
Posted by WILDNEWJERSEY at 8/29/2011 1:00 PM 
Categories: Linda's For the Birds
Tags: autumn shorebirds cicada birds hummingbirds
Categories: Linda's For the Birds
Tags: autumn shorebirds cicada birds hummingbirds
Linda, I always enjoy your posts, but this one really struck a chord with me. I identified with it completely. Thanks.
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Thanks Beth, I always wonder if I'm the only one that gets this weird melancholy feeling this time of the year. I'm glad you enjoyed the article.
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