Outdoors Column | Les Winkeler: Measuring time by the season - The Southern
Time is a strange phenomenon.
Forty years can fly by within a blink of an eye, yet, individual moments – like waiting for a loved one to get off an airplane after a long trip – can drag on interminably.
In recent years I’ve taken to relying less and less on the calendar, instead measuring time by season. Unfortunately, the system doesn’t forestall impending birthdays or create an additional Christmas, but it is an accurate barometer of the passage of time.
For instance, spring has nothing to do with March 21.
Spring has to do with that first warm day after the bluster of winter. That first morning you step into your yard and the sun warms your face rather than turning an indifferent cold shoulder.
Spring is noticing buds appearing on trees, the softness of the green of emergent leaves. And, while you can stare at buds for hours on end and nothing happens, one morning you wake up and realize that forest canopies are full.
How did it happen? Where did that time go?
This notion came to mind last week while driving to the Tunnel Hill train tunnel. Our granddaughter spent a couple weeks at our house and a bicycle ride was high on her agenda.
While driving the last half-mile to the tunnel parking lot, I noticed corn fields on either side of the road. The corn was already tasseling on July 2. Modern farm practices are changing the way we, maybe just me, view time. Watching farmers till and plant their fields is another marker of spring.
It seems the young corn plants emerge in the snap of a finger after the tractor and planter leave the field. Seeing the tiny plants force their way to the surface never fails to make me smile.
For decades I lived by one of my dad’s favorite sayings. He’d always say farmers would have a good crop if the corn was “knee high by the Fourth of July.” As a side note, it’s inconceivable that dad has been gone for 10 years already, and now one of my favorite “dadisms” has also gone by the wayside.
Back to the calendar of natural time, summer will soon be gone, a face the calendar disputes.
The calendar, and science, tell us that summer doesn’t end until late September. Nature’s reality is different.
If you drive or walk or walk along a lake, stream or swamp in the next few days or weeks, you’re apt to see prothonotary warblers – bright yellow birds with blue/green wings and an insistent call. They are a stunning sight to see.
But, you better hurry. In about a month they’ll be heading back to the tropics for the winter. They’re not the only species that views summer as coming to an end in mid-August.
Conversely, by mid-August or early September, we’ll start seeing teal move back into the region. When that happens, nature is telling us that time is marching relentlessly on.
Unfortunately, I also have to maintain a careful eye on the calendar, although as I type this on July 7, I notice July 3 is still showing on the daily calendar at my desk. Individual days and deadlines still remain a vital part of human life. Not to mention the fact that forgetting birthdays and anniversaries can be hazardous to your health.
Actually, I’ve been formulating this outlook for decades.
When my oldest daughter was a little, she’d frequently ask me, “What’s your favorite season?” Inevitably, I’d replay, “Baseball,” a source of infinite frustration for her.
Forty years later, I’ll stand by that answer, although awaiting the beginning of that season has exposed a fatal flaw in my internal calendar.
LES WINKELER is the outdoors writer for The Southern. Contact him at les@winkelerswingsandwildlife.com or on Twitter @LesWinkeler.
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2020-07-11 23:24:00Z
https://thesouthern.com/outdoors/outdoors-column-les-winkeler-measuring-time-by-the-season/article_42e3652a-cb46-5218-b59c-5a4f08b51c6e.html
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