Saturday, November 7, 2015

The Roller Coaster Weather of Texas


 On any given day, when I open the door to let the dog out in the morning, I can be greeted either with humidity worthy of a day in the rain forest or, now that it is fall,  “a day when I might NOT be sweating”! Yeah!  Ah, but the very next day can be one where you might swear there should be Toucans in the trees.  


 Not that this takes a meteorological expert to figure out.  If the weather is coming from the south, tropical air it will be, and if from the north, well, at least cooler than tropical. The hope is, that as we get deeper into late fall or early winter, the chance of "hot and humid" will be less likely than "cool and lovely".
Precipitation has followed the same pendulum swing.  The floods that made the news this spring had me naively thinking it would be a green summer, which it was not.  

 Plants drooped dramatically for most of the summer, refusing to be cheered by my attempts at watering them. Now the rains have returned with a vengeance and I am out there rescuing the potted ones from root rot! Job security I suppose.

These last rains have greened up the world like spring again.  The rain lilies that leap out enthusiastically after every rain are carpeting the grass.  And my firecracker fern, which had only a paltry few “firecrackers” when the hummingbirds were here, is now loaded with tubular flowers.  Ironically, it comes at a time when the hummingbirds have exited, stage left.  I know I have pointed this out before, but it certainly was a good plan to have animals be cued by the shortening of the days rather than the change in temperatures to know when to shove off for other climes. 

And, as I have confessed before, Texas keeps me stumped in truly knowing the signs of the seasons.  Hummingbirds have gone, check, that happens, it seems in late Oct, in my yard anyways. 

Mockingbirds are singing up a competitive storm, but this I have grown to realize is the territorial dispute over who winters in which yard, not a nesting squabble.  I hear less from Bewick’s wrens than Carolina Wrens but they are both year round residents so, not sure what that portends.  A sad demise of the Bewicks?  Captured by feral cats?  Moved to the neighbors?  Just not singing?  I have no idea.


The hordes of harvestmen are nowhere to be found, although legs were floating in some of my rain buckets lately.  Were they all eaten? Left in the night?  Hiding under the rocks? Or perhaps they do disappear each fall.  I should pay more attention.

But in one weeks time I shall be bundled up and headed north.  Although I will have missed the glory that was autumn, I thrill to the thought of walking in the woods with my grandchildren and recognizing familiar sights of fall.  Nuts and pinecones chewed in a way that gives away the one who has done the chewing. 

 Chipmunks probably will have sealed up their homes but, if not, then the woods will resound with their constant chips warning you to back off.  Don’t even think about taking any of their hard won stash.  The bogs should be crimson and bittersweet, that omnipresent invasive that drapes the trees in Halloween orange should be, well, omnipresent.  I can’t wait, signs of a season that I can recognize!    And, should any free time present itself, I will share them all with you.


2 comments:

  1. Lovely piece! Safe travels up north - we will be going to Caifornia, God willing! Ah, the freedom to GO!!

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    1. enjoy every moment of that freedom, made all the sweeter by the times you couldnt go. I will email from ME..if possible

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