Week of Change

On Sunday the 12th, Columbus Day, we were still stuck in a lingering summer. There had been couple of cool spells, but no real threat of frost. After the first mild days came through the hot and steamy days of summer returned, disappointingly, after there had already been so many of them. We had to wait for it to pass.

It had turned dry after one of the wettest monsoon summers I could recall. The corn held its green, but soybeans turned yellow fast, then hurried to shed their leaves entirely. It didn’t take long to go over to vast fields of grayish-brown stalks with the little pods clinging tightly in plain sight of everyone. For two weeks before the 12th we marked the plumes of gray dust in fields before we could see the combines or the grain bed trucks. On the roads the semi tractors hissed and shuddered with their loads of gold beans, each winking like an eye with that dark line above where the bean attached inside the pod. During that second week of October farmers finished nearly all their beans and no one started shelling corn while the leaves and stalks were still green. This year the corn stands and dries down in the fields like it should. With luck, there won’t be so much propane to buy this year to cook the excess moisture out of it.

While the bean harvest moved forward the corn surrendered the final green in its leaves and became rustly, ears hanging down with the silk now on the bottom. It sheds rain better that way and continues to dry. Each week that goes by it turns a little more gray instead of gold. No one is shelling corn yet, and that’s good.

On Monday the 13th I thought there were just a few more red tips on the stressed red maples along roadsides and driveways. There weren’t many of them, but they offered the only promise of color to be had in spite of being half way through October. The wet early summer must have put all the hardwoods in mind of making big growth rings for the year and they were still at it. The energy factories in their chlorophyll-green leaves kept the season going full tilt. They weren’t finished yet.

Tuesday the 14th was much the same. In every direction the dominant color was late summer green. It warmed again that day as it had every day for the previous two weeks. I began to speculate on when color might arrive, or if it would just be a dull fall with little contrast to mark the change of season.

On Wednesday it was clear early in the morning that something had happened with the tulip poplars. This is Indiana’s state tree, so we expect it to be noticeable. Many leaves were brown on the edges, and there was much more yellow showing. A few had begun to flutter down to make crisp brown husks on the ground and in the garden amongst the winter squash curing in the sun. There was hope.

Thursday morning the 16th it was all noticeably different. The sugar maples led the way. Even people I met asked about the changes that had come overnight. No longer did the patchwork of greens dominate. Gold had splashed here and there overnight. The hills in my part of the Heartland were now filled with interest and patterns of gold going to red here and there. I wanted to just look in every direction all the time. Having heard there might be rain coming, the rest of the day was spent in harvest work with pumpkins, dry beans, and winter squash. I want to be an ant, not a grasshopper.

Friday the 17th (Saratoga!) I had a near perfect view in every direction, but especially when the sun was behind me. Gold and red covered maybe 30% of the trees, but the oaks and hickories were still deep glossy green. The contrast was shocking. Just two days before there was little to notice, but this morning the show had begun. Everywhere I went that day there were more and more sugar maples glowing with yellow and red. Hallowe’en displays of pumpkins, straw bales, and styrofoam headstones looked correct now with their background of dry fence rows and drifts of freshly fallen leaves. The air was warming and there was rain promised the next day.

Saturday the gold and brown poplar leaves began to fall with a little wind and I could hear them fluttering in the air and when they struck others on the ground. Dramatic clouds split the sunrise during a walk. When the wind picked up it would fill the air with flashes of color as the bright sun played on poplar leaves. I had to stop and stare, smiling like a schoolboy. The temperature rose steadily and it began to cloud up by noon. It’s always disappointing when the leaves turn colors only to be slashed to the ground by wind and thunderstorms. Fingers crossed this time. The rain didn’t arrive until late Saturday, falling steadily but not fast enough to wash in the driveway. It settled the dust wonderfully. Then around 8PM the wind picked up a bit and a steady rain on the leaves made for very good sleep with the windows open. I was needing that.

On Sunday morning the 19th (Yorktown!) some light rain continued and it was quiet in town. I’ve noticed that when it rains or snows in this part of the Heartland people tend to stay home. I like that. In spite of the rain the leaves still held. Sassafras turned carmine and hot orange and the sumacs went to dull burgundy. Even the dogwoods joined in with splashes of maroon. The poplars were pretty sparse but they had given up most of the leaves on Saturday before the rain. Not until afternoon did the clouds begin to clear and become breezy. The high temperature only reached 59 and then fell back to the upper 40s before 9 PM. We may get a little frost out of this one in the next couple of days.

So it was a week of changing landscapes, and just in time. Now the rest of October can play out just as it should. I must keep my vigil of each day to enjoy my favorite time of year before the duns and drabs of November weigh upon us and make us think of the woodpile and a cozy stove.

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