Saylorville Lake 65 Degrees - Rainy
I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with fall. I love fall colors and the low humidity that makes an 80-degree day splendid instead of sticky. The Iowa roadsides come alive with the bright yellows of Compass flower and the pale purple and silvery white of mature prairie grasses. Burning Bushes turn bright red and the Poplars along the roadsides turn such a brilliant gold, they seem to generate their own light. Fall was when Champ and I chose to get married, outside in the beautiful pallet of color. It’s also the time of year for my favorite seasonal beer, Oktoberfest. These days I drink it sparingly since my Paleo diet frowns on grains. I had one Sunday and savored every last drop.
The ‘hate’ part of fall and its beauty has always been that winter is coming soon. Winter used to mean dealing with icy roads on my work commute. Bone chilling cold that left me shivering for hours after getting home from work, and 4 months of walking like a penguin, shuffling across slick parking lots. Now the chill is in our hearts as we bask in warmer climates, we are absent for the big winter holidays, several birthdays and half a year of grandkids getting older and seeing them only with an occasional face time chat. We struggle with it every year. Some days we feel selfish for enjoying our retirement years in warmer climates part of the year, some days we say to each other the kids have their own lives and we need to live ours. It’s a battle.
Sunday morning, we went for a walk. Since hurting my foot about a month ago, a casual walk has been non-existent. I’m on the mend after shorter work days and learning how to heal myself. The morning was glorious. In mid-50-degree temps and brilliant sunshine we walked the path behind our site and down around the shore line. Migration is peaking, and I marveled at the change in calls from the trees as well as flocks flying above. Cormorants, Herring Gulls and Pelicans have replaced Red-winged Black Birds, Yellow-Rump Warblers, and Orioles. Some sort of Plover or Sandpiper was flitting overhead, but I didn’t take time to figure out exactly what they were. I was missing my friend John Harrington, he would have known them at a glance. Butterflies moved through in force a couple of weeks ago, giving a stunning performance at the Butterfly Gardens. As I walked up the road that connects our campground to the boat ramp, I couldn’t stop looking at the water mark on the tree trunks some 15 feet above the ground. I marvel at natures ability to recover. 8 weeks ago, the road was lake bottom. Now the grasses are green again, some of the fall wild flowers are blooming and it’s beginning to look like it’s old self again. The fool plots have been replanted, turnips and sweet grass are growing and will provide food to the animals here for the fall and winter. It’s been a rough year for the wildlife at Saylorville. Repeated flooding and extreme heat have been the theme all summer. The lake is on the rise once again I looked at the Corps forecast and see it’s supposed to crest the first week of October nearly as high as it was in July when we bugged out of here. I hope that the food plots will be spared this go ‘round. The animals have had a rough year and the plots will keep entice them to stay in the timber rather than venture out to the populated areas searching for food and meeting with cars and trucks on the highway. The rain just won’t stop in Iowa this year.
We find ourselves scurrying about. Like the squirrels stockpiling food for winter, we are stockpiling time with the kids every chance we get, knowing we will be gone for the cold months ahead. We spent Sunday afternoon watching one of the grandkids play soccer. Several dates are on the books for time with friends and family. My summer job will come to an end this coming week and I’ll say farewell to my friends who own the shop. There is so much to look forward to this next 6-months, but much will be left behind as we continue this great adventure of work camping. It is an internal battle that we agree will always take place this time of year. All choices come with sacrifice on some level and the great sacrifice of snow birds is leaving the kids behind. Something tells me when we are sitting in Southwest Georgia in January and our family are dealing with sub-zero highs and our cold blast will be highs in the 50’s it won’t be as hard to be away.
Until next time…
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