A walk with a dear friend in the autumn woods is a chance to “seize the bright and gentle moments to treasure now and again in memory…” Photos by Emily Stone.

“Autumn has trailed light fingers across the byways and in the wake of that cool touch, the leaves flush or blanch and sink earthward in a silent swoon…The passing of days is swift and soon the glory will fade to the dun shades that precede winter’s snow.”
– Lois Nestel, Wayside Wanderings.

With nearly constant travel and busyness during these last two months, I feel a bit untethered and adrift. The autumn woods are golden and chickadees call cheerfully from their newly re-formed winter flocks, but it’s difficult to get my attention to rest on any one subject.

In times like these, I find it’s helpful to turn to a wise friend and elder for guidance. And so, I’ve pulled together a few of Lois Nestle’s essays from the museum’s archives. Lois was the Museum’s founding Naturalist and Director. In these, she captures both my mood and the antidote.

Take a deep breath of the crisp fall air and enjoy!

“Winds of change are sweeping across the land, wiping out the last vestiges of the summer past and ushering in the bleak kinsman, winter. Angrily the winds have torn away the last dry leaves, battered the heavy-needled pines and contemptuously knocked aside trees too weak to withstand the onslaught. In their wake, soon now, will come the cold and snow and we, who have not fled, begin settling into the routine winter brings.

“Perhaps it is because garden time is over and I haven’t found s suitable substitute. Perhaps it is because the season has not yet become full-fledged but balances on an emotional teeter-totter, even as I. Perhaps a lot of things—the fact remains that I am impatient—impatient with the shortening days and my seeming inability to function efficiently in artificial light, impatient that tasks undone forever seem to multiply instead of lessening.

“The weather is a handy scapegoat. One day soon the sun will shine, this mood will pass and some new enthusiasm will have me reaching for the moon again.
“As we walk through field and woodland these lovely autumn days we perform an important, though unintentional service, that of helping to disburse a variety of seeds. Who has not come home with socks, jacket or pants matted with innumerable small seeds or spent an hour picking, pulling or cutting burrs from the fur of a favorite pet?

“Many, many are the plants who see to the distribution and continuation of their kind by letting their seeds literally hook a ride on whatever available creature that passes. Hooks they have, which so easily catch on fur or clothing that one is unaware of touching anything. Once attached they are tenacious, defying removal by all but the most tedious effort.

“A plant is a stationary object and as such must use whatever resources are possible to maintain and regenerate itself. These resources run the gamut of inventiveness. Some, like dandelions, milkweed, and thistles have their seeds borne on the wind by silken parachutes. Some rely on edible fruits whose seeds are dropped far and wide through discarding, in feces or, as in the case of nuts and acorns, their being cached by ambitious rodents and birds. Some are explosive, their seed capsules opening with a violent and audible pop, shooting showers of seeds in all directions. Some are in shaker pods while others glide and twirl on vagrant breezes. All are ingenious devices to accomplish a necessary end. The bird-carried seed may go the farthest, but the hitch-hiking burr gets the vote for sheer tenacity.

“One of the last really summery days we spent a lovely afternoon, my dear friend and I. It had been far too long since we had walked and talked and enjoyed the out-of-doors in our own special way. We shared the scenery and gathered treasures here and there. Nature spread her bounty along road and trail sides and of its wealth we gratefully partook.

“Elderberries hung their purple heads for us to gather. Wild hops festooned the trees and shrubs and yielded papery strobiles to eager hands. In the woodlands there were mushrooms to collect and amid the tangles of greenbrier and wild clematis there were, for sampling, the sweetness of black haws and the fire red, acid fruits of high bush cranberries. We dug hog peanuts for the bean sized, crunchy nuts they bore and gathered cattails for their down.

“Reviving memories of other woodland walks, we created new ones to see us through the busy days come. It’s autumn now and there is much to do before the snow and cold arrives. Almost as quickly as the clouds cover the harvest moon, the days fly by. We must seize the bright and gentle moments to treasure now and again in memory. All the beauty, all the plentitude awaits us, yet—too often—we are too busy to know or care.”

I’ll be heading outside soon to seize some bright and gentle moments that will see me through the busy days to come. I hope you will, too!
Emily Stone is Naturalist/Education Director at the Cable Natural History Museum. Her award-winning third book, Natural Connections3: A Web Endlessly Woven, is available to purchase at www.cablemuseum.org/books and at your local independent bookstore, too. Our Fall Calendar is open for registration! The new exhibit The Wetland Way is now open! Discover how life thrives at the intersection of soil and water. Follow us on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and cablemuseum.org to see what we are up to