There’s a little confusion about the seasons
Taking the Highway 22 exit, I head into Shawano. Driving across the Wolf River Bridge, slowing to a crawl, I glance across to see the sun reflecting on the river, exploding like hundreds of diamonds, the trees leaning over — their fall loveliness showing off alongside the diamonds. How can one give justice to this splendor?
Our ridge is magnificent right now, and we’ve seen more than one vehicle stop at the crest of the hill to snap a picture or two. One day a semi-tanker manure truck hauling liquid gold had to actually drive around a car that had stopped to take a picture at the top of the hill. Common sense flies the coop when there’s a photo op.
These colors are fugitives, here one day and seemingly gone the next. While we’re living with the magnificence all around us, we did take a drive to Rib Mountain one glorious day and after having breakfast at the Log Cabin in Wausau and, of course, a Fleet Farm run, took our time meandering home.
Every year, I do the same thing: marvel at our Father’s workmanship while at the same time bemoan the swiftness of the season. Oh, how I love this time of year. Not only do the colors soothe me, I don’t mind the work of making wood. We take our time and go at it on days we have a couple of hours to spare.
Our cords of wood are forming up nicely, like soldiers ready for battle. Pretty decent analogy because that’s about what they do — battle the cold. I’m not such a good stacker and my hunks tend to either lean in or lean back, neither of which is good. I leave the stacking to my husband.
The moon this month was another phenomena — I’ve heard it called a “hunter’s moon” which is quite appropriate. The other night I was awakened (did I hear a mouse scratching in the wall?) and walking into our back room thought the sun was peeking out, it was that brilliant. Trying to snap a picture of it did no justice to it at all.
Daily treks down my walking lane almost engulf me with dry, maize-colored corn stalks towering over on either side. One day, looking down I spotted a pile of something suspect at the end of the lane. Snapping a picture of it I inquired of our friend, “What does this look like to you?”
He texted back, “Looks to be bear scat. Guess he left u a gift!”
Oh thanks. Thanks a lot. Thereafter, I raise my cell high in the air broadcasting the podcasts I listen to. On full volume. Someone told me once that the bear would be more scared of me than I was of him. Impossible. My sister said I need a dog. Or bear spray.
So many ladybugs crawling as if they’re on a mission is annoying. They also stink when squished. I would not have been disappointed had they missed the ark.
Corn fields still standing will soon be combined and shelled for high-moisture corn or grain, but the cob needs to test out at 14-15%. The lower the moisture content, the less drying charges are assessed. Back in the day, an old wives tale circulated that if the cob floated, it was dry enough to pick and then it could be stored in a crib without chance of getting moldy.
Besides lots of fall activity, something curious is brewing.
One day we were in our woods and looking up, my husband spotted a lilac bush – in full bloom. It was bizarre, contrasting with the fall-colored tree shadowing it. We were astounded.
Snapping a picture of the unusual scene, I posted it with the note: “Lilacs blooming and trees turning; what’s up with that?”
Many comments were similarly perplexed:
“My lilac blossomed again and so did my roses!”
“Maybe we should just skip winter?” (I’m with this one.)
“Our lilacs did the same and our roses blossomed three times.”
“I just took the blanket off my roses and I turn to see clematis in bloom. Unbelievable!”
These comments made me do some digging. From www.mlive.com, I discovered Tyler Kluck of Kluck Nursery in Saginaw, Michigan. He states, “It’s not uncommon to have lilacs bloom a second time in a season. Stress-periods of dryness during the growing season can create another growth spurt on lilacs in late summer or fall. During a dry time the lilacs will drop leaves. A rainy period then can bring them out of the stress and make them bloom again.”
Mowing lawn just lately I also noticed a few dandelions. Roses, lilacs and clematis I don’t mind coming back for a curtain call, but dandelions? Not so much.
While the season seems to be a little disoriented right now, I am going to just relax and enjoy it all. Too soon, much too soon, we’ll have a white-cotton coating on everything.
(“And he changes the times and the seasons; he removes kings and raises up kings; he gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding.” Daniel 2:21)
Kay Reminger was born and raised on a dairy farm, and she married her high school sweetheart, who happened to farm for a living in Leopolis. Writing for quite a few years, she remains focused on the blessings of living the ups and downs of rural life from a farm wife’s perspective.