Micro-Seasons Four, Five and Six

The sun sleeps in and lights the flames of the maples

Oct 25, 2023

It struck me as somewhat ironic that I have undertaken the task of identifying the distinct micro-seasons of this slice of the Pacific Northwest I call home while daily, report after report of unusual and surprising weather events are released. Some of them distinct and harsh enough to be termed, ‘catastrophic'. Take Otis1 for example. That storm seemed harmless enough on Sunday. And now it is Wednesday, and all I can say is my heart goes out to anyone near Acapulco, Mexico today. We can all hope that Otis degrades as quickly as it intensified.

In a time when the phrase climatological norm is losing its meaning, and predictable seasonal weather patterns are all but disappearing, is it still worth identifying the natural transformations that define specific, five-day designations of time?

Yes.

Because this exercise was never about describing something in order to hold the world to repeat that observed behavior forever. Nothing stays the same year to year. And that is the point. Take a look at what’s going on now. Notice it. Appreciate it for what it is, not what you wish it were. You might never see it again. (This goes for people too.)

And, so, without further explanation, I am sharing my 2023 micro-seasons, Four, Five and Six. Actually, before we get to that, more mushrooms arrived (and departed) over the last week. Yes, more mushrooms, because…look at them!

Some cutie pies, fresh out of an old alder log

Friday, Oct 20 — a few sets of these parasols arrived at the base of a Western redcedar

and by yesterday, were gone

…though it looks like someone did enjoy these

Four - Huckleberry fruits darken: October 8th - 12th

Discovering that the evergreen shrub I found growing voraciously in the understory and along the edges of the forest on our property was huckleberry made me sigh with relief. At first, I thought it might be yet another invasive species because it is so hearty and pervasive. But by the first fall here, when those dark little berries shined, I had glorious visions of muffins and pies and cobblers. Have I made any such treat with these berries? No. However, I just learned that the berries become their sweetest after the first frost which, I imagine, the birds already know. So I’ll wait patiently for the nights to get just a little closer to 32, after which I’ll be fighting (in a friendly way) the chickadees and robins to pick those black beauties from their stems.

Five — Conifers drop their needles: October 13th - 17th

In my post unveiling micro-seasons One, Two and Three, I referenced the cedar flagging which takes place in the fall. This event is often mistaken for disease of a tree, but is actually a natural and healthy process whereby the conifers prepare to release a portion of their inner needles to allow next year’s growth to prevail. Lucky us, because the contrasting amber & rust needle color amidst the lush green branches of the remaining needles is one of the loveliest signals of autumn. And then the needles drop, and the forest floor glows.

…when the sun shines on this carpet, it’s like a coppery shag begging you to take your socks off

Six — Maple leaves flame: October 18th - 22nd

I’m not sure if this is cheating, but since this micro-season thing is an exercise I invented for myself, I suppose I can make up the rules. Technically, these are not “native” trees, but that shouldn’t mean their amazing transformation doesn’t count. I look forward to it every year and it is a marker of time. And it stops me dead in my tracks whenever they reach their full, lambent glory.