nature

The autumn equinox was two days ago and I feel conflicted.  I’d previously named autumn as my favoUrite season but I have never so thoroughly enjoyed summer’s heat and humidity.  The average temperature for July and August was about 27C* (81F).  I was content to slow down and acclimate.   By the time I thought to buy a fan, the stores were sold out.  But on days I happily accomplished little, I thought of Aesop’s lazy grasshopper—and I’ve watched as neat new piles of firewood have grown by homes all along the highway here since July.  Now autumn is a reminder that six months of cold are breathing down my neck.  Time to pull the hoody-hood up.  It’s dark by 8PM.  I hear geese honking overhead and I shout “no, don’t go!”

Spring provided the most surprises by wildlife here on the MBR property.  Throughout winter, I saw fox prints in the snow but it wasn’t until one day (and only one day) after a light snowfall in early spring that I saw the red fox.   I watched the beautiful creature hunt in a nearby field and trot quite close to the tiny house before disappearing in the woods behind me with prey, likely to feed the kits.

I did not see any snowshoe hares in the snow, but in early June one hare bounded around the property, repeatedly going down to the road, across the lawn, and then back to the woods.  After watching the antics for a while, I got in my car to drive to town.  Before turning the key, I looked out the windshield and was astounded to see both the hare and a red squirrel running side-by-side up the driveway towards the car.  My first thoughts were rabies or a tsunami warning but, no, it was just crazy-hare day.

I’m sure all the critters would have preferred the property remain unoccupied.  The new side steps to the farmhouse seem to be a thoroughfare for small creatures travelling between the woods and the front of the property.  From my tiny house, I’ve watched as squirrels, chipmunks, and the hare have run all over and under the new boards.  One April evening, I was startled when I almost stepped on a yellow-spotted salamander there.  Just waking up and on its way to some excitement in the ditch, no doubt.

The larger wildlife move through the woods behind me.  When driving, I occasionally have to slow down for deer crossing the road.  The east side of a nearby hill has a steep grade that significantly slows down my small car.  Part of the family lore is a story of my grandmother having to stop on that hill and quietly wait as two moose walked slowly by her VW Beetle.  Nearly fifty years later, I am on the lookout for moose every time I chug up that hill in my little hatchback.

*The average daily temperature where I live on the Minas Basin was 27C for July and 26.4C for August.  Plus humidity.

References:

• MBR: Minas Basin Retreat, the property where I am living in my tiny house.  The Minas Basin is an inlet of the Bay of Fundy (with the world’s highest tides).