IN TEXAS, IF YOU DON’T LIKE THE SEASON, WAIT A MINUTE!

 

In New England, as in many states, the saying is, ”If you don’t like the WEATHER, wait a minute.”  After three years in Texas, I would say the Texas saying should be, “If you don’t like the SEASON, wait a minute.”  This week we have clearly had spring or early summer with temperatures in the mid-70’s.  But we have also had freeze warnings and nights that the plants needed to be covered. Presently, it is in the 40’s and raining, very reminiscent of a fall day.

I dread ever being asked the kind of question that is designed to see just HOW senile are you?  As in, “Can you tell me what month it is?” or “Can you tell me what season it is?”  On any given day, I am bound to get either one of those questions wrong.  Off to the “home” with me!

From late May to November, I would be likely to answer, “It is summer; the month is August, and these are indeed the dog days of August.” That’s how

Texas feels to me for 8 out of the 12 months.  

I just started teaching again at the Nature Center, and when I was trying to explain that my fractured leg had kept me from teaching in the last session, I hesitated.  “I wasn’t here for the fall, or was it the spring session?”  Hmmm and what season are we in now?  Well, it is February and this is the spring session, right?”  Right.

The plants are no help either.  At the moment in my yard I have three trees turning gold and orange, clearly fall colors, while on the other hand, my sorry little few sprigs of forsythia, the herald of spring and Easter on the Cape, are just blooming.  The “grass”, actually burr clover, is as green as it would be in May, and the Possumhaw Holly has bright red berries on bare branches, just like our Winterberry would have in the winter on Cape Cod.

So, you tell me, what season is it?

 

Birds sometimes anchor a season in your mind and I am getting a better handle on that here.  When Lesser Goldfinches, who are soooo cute, empty my thistle feeder every few days, I know it is winter. 

 When my, loved on the Cape, Chipping sparrows, crowd the feeder, I have to remember it is winter.  They were a summer bird up North.  And as the arrival of the first Junco, “Snow Bird”, meant winter was on it’s way, here, it is the arrival of the Ruby Crowned Kinglet. 

What a treat to see this diminutive pair of Kinglet’s peck away at the suet.  You can tell these birds by their white eye-ring and subtle olive color, NOT by the advertised “ruby crown”.  Only the male sports the crown and until he is either in love enough to flash it, or angry enough to raise a “red flag”, it is so well concealed that you don’t see it at all.  So far, none of the males have shown an inclination towards either emotion.  No flash of red for me to see, and by the time they are courting, I think they will have moved north again.

So, is it early Alzheimer’s, or is it just that Texas is so confusing?  Let’s hope for the latter!