The end of September

September has always been for me a month when life is particularly intense, and so I am a little wistful when it is over. The school year is under way in earnest, the weather changes, fish, turtles, and birds begin to migrate, and so many other cycles begin and end with September. 

For the past hour the crows have been raising a ruckus in the woods behind the house, out of sight but well within earshot. Five minutes ago they suddenly stopped and left. Had they continued any longer, I would have walked around the corner to see what had them so riled up. The crows began to migrate about three weeks ago. I noticed the four crows, two parents and their two juveniles, who had figured out how to get a mouthful of suet from the basket, had left the area.

This morning the noise was so loud at first that I rounded up the littlest cat and called the other three indoors. I doubt they were in any real danger, but though Daisy is an acrobat and fearless, she is also small and easily confused. How she survived on the dirt road where she was found, along with her sister and six nieces and nephews, is a story for which I don't have the details, but now she is here, and I wouldn't want her to go up against the owls or hawks or crows if I can help it.

Now it is eerily quiet. The crows are gone and the cats are asleep.