Shining Light on the Prairie – After the Fall

Beset by drought and significantly warmer than one used to expect, what at 1^st glance might’ve seemed a mundane autumn lingered long.

At liberty beneath bright skies, I wandered.

The best part for me both personally & professionally is that a significant part of that land looking occurred in the embrace of old growth woods.

That is, native forest that’s by & large stood undisturbed since time immemorial.

Well before any much vaunted New World, at any rate.

That work then put me back in touch with the forest floor like I haven’t been since I was a kid.

Also, with the distinctive character of old wood itself.

All but abstract.

Often mysterious.

But possessed of organic memory so lengthy and complex it puts our individually transient stories to shame by way of comparison.

In the end, my purposeful presence in the real world while this edge season's mostly obscure splendor quietly unfolded aced my every intention for it.

I’d have happily continued, had the unseasonable weather held.

Except the last two days of November, right on the cusp of meteorological winter, near blizzard conditions slipped all the way down from the Arctic to eat autumn’s last vestige.

Today the frigid, monochromatic season is everywhere upon the land.

For most but never all, life trudges on.

Though daring fueled by knowledge, tempered as needed by caution so to endure yet another Great Lakes winter is prerequisite for survival until next spring.

That just goes with the territory.

Shining Light on the Prairie - Autumn ’25, too

Prime time.

Such as that actually occurred.

In any event, this year I embraced autumn like I’d been born to it.

Which of course I was.

I even revisited a cherished landscape of my youth.

Along its modern border, a great glacier long ago left a short line of steep rubble mounds piled sky high upon an otherwise resolutely flat landscape.

Started climbing to the top, just for old time’s sake. Made it halfway up then turned back, knowing full well what’s on the other side.

Which is just more scoured world rendered woeful obsolete, yet damnably stubborn.

No matter. I aced what vestige of that ruin I came for.

As is common these days, drought’s scar leavened the joy. There ought to be water here, except there’s been none to speak of quite the while now.

Over time, both the land and its most resilient inhabitants adjust.

Those that can’t either migrate off their native landscape or become part of it.

Nevertheless.

This year's prime time autumn proved particularly productive for me.

Full of bright sunny days spent afield, awash in impossible contrasts melded as one together all the same.

Then the world again turned, as it will.

And the moment it did found me distinctly present.

Shining Light on the Prairie, Autumn ‘25

This year’s October was again warmer than historical averages.

Unremittently sunny too, which helped maintain the warmth.

Often breezy, rarely truly chill.

But it’s the ongoing drought told this autumn’s tale.

Consequently, the season offered an ongoing mishmash.

Resilient green, vibrant reds and yellows, stark bare branches all at once.

Harsh light cast through all.

Eventually, ever shrinking days took their toll.

And the world again turned.

Freedom

 

spider survival

rides on webbed cunning

flown into by prey

 

As happens, that bee shook itself free in the nick of time.

So no bees were harmed during the making of that picture.

 

Be the bee.

 

 

Shake yourself free while you've still half a chance.

 

Leave the hungry spider hanging.

 

Waiting on prairie autumn…

 

…to fall.

For this year's golden season to finally be

something other than just more stubborn summer

steadily degrading.

Thankfully a bit cooler, this past summer ran hot. Damned hot.

In any event distinctly softer

with longer light

and less of it,

given autumn’s inexorably shorter, increasingly reflective days.

They say that from today going forward the season will at last revert to normal for the duration.

That's the official word, at least.

Except since normal’s rendered utterly relative these days,

I wonder how we’ll ever know.