Heading Into Fall

It’s starting to get fallish around here. We had two mornings when the temperature was in the upper 40s, though by mid-afternoon the temperature rose to the upper 70s. The corn has been harvested, and the stalks are standing tall and dry in the fields. Everywhere you look you see the remnants of old summer gardens. The leaves on the on the sourwood and sassafras trees are beginning to turn colors. These trees are the first true harbingers of autumn. The leaves on the oaks and maples are a dark green, and they are dry and brittle like an old person’s skin. I never noticed that before, but there are a lot of things about nature that I never noticed until I moved here.

I can’t say that I am looking forward to winter, particularly if it is as cold as last year’s. Unfortunately, that’s the prediction from all sources. So say the weather scientists, the ancient sages of Fannin County and last but not least, the Old Farmer’s Almanac. People in these parts use the almanac, and some swear by it. It’s sold at the Farmers’ Coop and at Quinn’s Nursery, the place where I get many of the vegetable sets I plant in the garden. I’m not a believer yet, but I intend to keep my copy on hand and see how reliable it is.

Even if the predictions are true and this winter does rival last winter for cold, I’m hoping I’ll have enough projects to keep me busy. That was the problem last winter. It was too cold to work outside or in the workshop, and I ran out of things to occupy me inside, so I developed cabin fever. This year I’m more involved in the community. Hopefully that means that I will have more things to do this winter. I’ll probably end up writing a year’s worth of guest columns for the local paper. Maybe I’ll start that great American novel that I’ve always wanted to write. If it gets too bad, then maybe it’s time for that month long trip to New Zealand that I’ve always wanted to take.

I have added another activity to my plate. There are a couple of guys in the church that I attend who play the banjo and guitar. They’ve started to get together to practice a few songs for the church’s annual Christmas Bazaar. When they learned that I play the bass they invited me to sit in. Now I’m trying to figure out bass lines for songs like Silent Night, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen and Winter Wonderland. It’s a little challenging to say the least. I’ve grown to hate the song Jingle Bells.

Last year at this time I was commenting on the squirrels around here. Not only were they abundant, but they displayed such crazy behavior that I came up with the theory that they were zombie squirrels. The most bizarre behavior was how they reacted to cars when they were in the middle of the road. Unlike the squirrels in Florida, these squirrels did not panic when approached by a car; they just went about their business like they were on quaaludes.

This year I have not seen near as many squirrels as last year. One explanation I’ve heard is that it has to do with acorns. Apparently oak trees, like many other nut-bearing trees, tend to produce abundant nuts every other year. The theory is that this year acorns are abundant and so the squirrels are staying in the forest where the food is. Last year was a bad year for acorns, so the squirrels had to leave the forest and forage over a wider range; hence they were more noticeable.

The theory makes sense, but I’m not one hundred percent convinced. It’s true that acorns are abundant this year, but I don’t think the relative scarcity of acorns last year explains why a squirrel was seen swimming in the middle of Lake Blue Ridge last fall. I think my zombie theory explains the facts as well as the acorn theory. Human zombies eat humans, so it makes sense that zombie squirrels eat squirrels. My thought is that last year all the zombie squirrels ate all the normal squirrels which means that this year there are no normal squirrels left for the zombie squirrels to eat. As a result the zombie squirrels have left the area in search of normal squirrels to feast on. This would account for why I have seen so few squirrels this fall―the normal squirrels have been eaten and the zombie squirrels have left. Logically, then, it follows that that if you live in an area where there are a lot of squirrels, you need to keep your eyes open for an invasion of zombie squirrels. Watch out, Florida.

One thing is constant―the squirrels remaining around here still do not know how to react when a car comes up on them when they are in the middle of the road. The other day I drove up on one. Instead on going left or right to get out of my way, this squirrel proceeded to run down the road in front of me for a couple of hundred feet. This pissed me off since a squirrel’s top speed is about five miles an hour and I was anxious to get home, so I’m following the squirrel down the road with my head out the window shouting, “Swerve, you fucker, swerve.” Though I have been trying to cultivate a calm and passive disposition in retirement, it’s tough sometimes. This may have been this first time that road rage was produced by a slow speed squirrel. Fortunately I had enough sense not to pull my pistol from the glove compartment.

Switching gears, my fall garden is doing well. I’m growing cabbage, collards, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, swizz chard, kale, turnips, lettuce and beets. Last night we ate some of the first beets. I feel like I’m turning into a herbivore. The next thing you know I’ll be into high colonics and tofu.

Well, that’s it from the hinterland. It must be close to nap time.