FortWhyte Alive

Autumn: the end of summer, the end of flowers, the end of sun-filled, warm days—leaves and temperatures begin to fall with ever shorter days and longer,
frosty nights. Many people see autumn as an end—to summer, to holiday time, to the gardening season. For others, autumn marks beginnings: a new school year, new
activities, new routines. At FortWhyte Alive, we see Summer Camp coming to an end, and school programs starting anew. However, to those attuned to the rhythms of the natural world, autumn is neither an end (nor a beginning), but simply a change, one of
many in the ongoing cycle of time. The calendar (that oh-so-human, linear method of measuring the passage of time!) tells us all that autumn begins on September 22nd. Not one to consult our calendar frequently, if at all, Nature’s signs of autumn appear to us at FortWhyte Alive a few weeks earlier, the exact timing depending on the year
in question.

Nature announces the turn towards autumn to us in several ways here at FortWhyte. No one can miss the thousands of geese using our lakes and ponds as rest areas as they being their long migration south. Forty thousand birds, all honking, flapping, feeding,
and sleeping, are a constant reminder to visitors of the changing season. The peak of migration always depends on the particular year, but for most of late September and October, Canada Geese, en masse, are all but a guaranteed sight. One Canada Goose up close is interesting; a chance to admire the adaptations and specializations of the species. Several thousand up close is awe-inspiring.

Geese are by no means the only migratory species to announce the coming of autumn. Warblers can be seen in abundance early in the fall; it is a confusing bounty for birders, though, as the colourful, distinctive breeding plumage (which made different the different species of warblers very easy to identify in June) has given way to off-season shades of
brown. Confusing fall warblers, or CFW’s, are a challenge many birders seem to enjoy; I will admit I do not attempt identification, but do enjoy watching them at our birdfeeders as they pack in energy for a southbound flight.

Smaller, but no less wonderful, events occur in September and October. Our resident painted turtles disappear with the first freezing temperatures. The turtles dig themselves into the mud at the bottom of lakes and ponds. There, the animals’ body slows down to the point of near-death; one heartbeat can last a week, and one breath fulfils a turtle’s oxygen requirements for the winter. In spring, the turtle will emerge from the mud, as animated as when they began hibernation. A late October pond may appear turtle-free, but under the mud, the turtle’s life continues, albeit at a very slow pace.

I do not have the words at my command to adequately describe the wonder and awe I feel when I observe any of these fall stages in the cycle—eloquence failing me, I can only implore you to come and see for yourself. Not all of Nature’s fall display is as obvious as a flock of thousands, or as brightly lit as brilliantly amber late September leaves on a trembling aspen. For every magnificent show and spectacle, Nature puts on a subtle, gentler display reminding us of the passage of time. It may be the tangy smell of highbush cranberries after the first frost; it may be the tracks of a raccoon family in frost on the boardwalk, after a night of heavy feeding to get ready for winter; it may be the scraping of a tree’s bark by a buck as he gets ready for the November rut—all these signs, and many more, wait to be discovered at FortWhyte Alive this fall. Another sign of autumn, enjoyed by almost every visitor, is the disappearance of biting insects as nights
cool below freezing.

Magnificent displays and the still and small signs remind us of the changing season. I hope your autumn beginnings and endings are good ones, and you get the chance to remember, with the natural world, that time is not really a line of stops and starts, but a cycle that turns year-to-year.

See you on the trail!
The Nature Nut