Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Changing Places, Changing Hearts, Changing Seasons.

It's getting Darker earlier, and I can tell.
It's pretty amazing to watch the seasons change. I feel the restlessness of fall come upon me, and I am prompted to do certain things because it's that time. I am prompted to watch birds as they migrate, and to join others in this effort. I do it year round, but now I will actually make special trips to special places in an effort to see them through my binoculars. I will keep lists, an hope for things such as "cerulean Warblers" and "Lesser Yellowlegs". I have lifelists, statelists, countylists, and Lake Hollingsworth lists. It's not quite an obsession, just merely a tick, one that borders obsession in the fall. I also feel obliged to hurl lead at squirrels in an effort to acquire meat for gumbo. That's right, I am a hunter, and I love eatin' tree rat. We have a love hate relationship (squirrels and I) with an understanding that no matter what, if one of us sits still long enough, they can be considered food by the other. So far I have an advantage, but I know from experience that I should never sleep in the back yard... I also feel obliged to heed my Grandfather's exhortations to grab a spinnerbait, and chunk it when "the water turns on the bayou". It's a phenomenon you'd have to see to understand, but so far the biggest bass I've caught out of the ole muddy bayou was caught under such condition behind Henry Corley's momma's house. I was using a plastic lizard, but I've caught bass on a spinnerbait "out-da-by" too. Can't do that here in Lakeland though, for Bayou Beouf don't run over here. This time of year is when I miss Cheneyville the most.
I also think, what's going to happen this fall? Will Florida be warm, cool, hurricaned, or dry? All of those are valid options. It's a sobering time of year, because it is one of stark change, and great contrast. Gone is the single question of summer time: "is it raining or not"? Now we have to ask, is it raining, is it snowing, is a hurricane a blowing (thank you Gene Wilder!) The snowing part is hyperbole, but you would be surprised as how cool seventy can be if you have to sleep outside, under the stars, and nothing between you and the dirt/concrete/park bench but your clothes...
We need blankets and pants.
That is the most important thing I can say now.
We need blankets and pants, Please.

Sunday update to come, right now it's important for you to know that:
We need blankets and pants, fall is here.
and what will fall this year?