Seasons Changing

A Perennial Approach for Nature Writers

I recently received a writing challenge to rethink my view of the changing seasons, but I can’t do that without first stating my existing view which was largely shaped by reading the book, A Sand County Almanac by Aldo Leopold. He opened the book with a January hike following the trail of a skunk through the snow until it disappeared into a woodpile.

Leopold showed us the seasons on a rundown farm in Wisconsin’s sand hills and then proceeded with section two, a series of essays about his travels further afield. The third section is perhaps the least read, but it is a series of philosophical essays about the ethics and aesthetics of land use. Some conservationists regard the third section as the most important.

I regard the entire book as significant because of Leopold’s pivotal role in the conservation movement. He wrote from the perspective of a conservationist who was also a hunter and fisherman, but he always thought first of the integrity of the land.

Leopold was not the only author to track the seasons in a series of essays. Joseph Wood Krutch tracked them for the Desert Southwest in his book. The Desert Year. Thoreau certainly paid attention to the seasons, as did Henry Beston in The Outermost House.

Several contemporary nature writers have modeled works after Leopold’s almanac and written seasonal essays named for the months. I have copies of several such books in my library. I wrote one myself several years ago, but I was not far enough along in my development as a nature writer for much to come of it. I include two excerpts here.

December Ducks

One Christmas day when the wind was cool but the southern sun warmed my back I walked beside a pond and noticed the ducks, participating in an ancient ritual. The ducks were dancing! 

The icy fingers of Boreas, the North Wind, had not reached this southern pond, and there was open water.  Just a few hundred miles to the north, ponds were frozen over and the ice held back the rights of spring. Here there was no such restraint. The dance of the ducks is a courtship ritual, passed down from countless generations of mallards long gone but reenacted by their descendants today. I had read of this ritual in the Stokes Guide to Bird Behavior but was surprised to see it acted out.

The male ducks circled the pond in full breeding plumage.  A few months ago, they were in “eclipse plumage,” mottled dark and light brown. They shed the eclipse plumage and nature painted them a brighter color.  The bright green head and reddish breast made a splendid display, perfect for catching the eye of a brown female, watching from the shallows near the pond’s edge.

Soon she tucked her beak near a wing and swam past the circling males in a timeless gesture known as the “inciting display.” True to its name, the display incited remarkable antics on the part of the male ducks. They began by bobbing their heads.  Each in turn dipped his beak into the water and flung droplets over his head. Two males lifted their beaks skyward and shook their heads from side to side. 

The drakes continued their dance, first with head and tail held high in a display of readiness for courtship to continue.  This was all for the benefit of the females, watching from nearby, and soon one made a pass through the center of their graceful water ballet.  She swam with her head lowered and parallel to the pond’s surface.  She was “nod swimming,” a maneuver used both as an aggressive sign to unwanted intruders and to attract the attention of prospective mates.

Her maneuver provoked another round of displays by the males.  They shook their heads from side to side, swam with heads up and tails up, and repeated the flinging of water drops over their heads.  One followed the female but was quickly rebuffed.  For mallard ducks, mate selection is entirely the female’s domain.  She would attract several suitors before one proved acceptable. 

For ducks, December is a time of flirtation only. Serious courtship would come later date in the warm months of spring.  Then the pairs will form brief bonds, and soon female ducks lay eggs. Meanwhile, the males will go elsewhere trying to get the attention of other females. By the time the eggs are laid, the males will already be on their own, and shedding their bright mating plumage for the mottled eclipse variety that makes them indistinguishable from the females.

February: Eye Shine

The mountain road was lonely enough to break your heart. In the distance, I saw a pair of glowing green eyes.  I slowed the car to a stop just as a young fox darted to the side of the road.

Three young foxes crouched on the ledge below. Instinct gave them a message as ancient as their species. “Don’t move if you want to remain invisible, if you want to live.”

Their eyes were fixed on me, rolled up to the top of their heads. It gave them an almost comical appearance, as though a cartoon artist had drawn them there among the vegetation in the light of the half moon.

I had examined fox furs and museum specimens before, so I knew their fur was coarse, the long guard hairs protecting them from briars, sometimes covered with snow to insulate the body beneath. Under the guard hairs, the short fur next to the body is soft as a duckling’s down, warm to the touch.

I did not try to touch the three. They could certainly have given a painful bite, and foxes are known to carry disease, but it was more than that. I was given the rare gift of close contact with wild creatures in their home. I would intrude no further.

Caught up in the magic of the moment, I was startled by a fast-moving shape that cut through the brush below and gave a soft bark.  Foxes can move silently through the forest, but this one was loud, perhaps intent on distracting me. I looked up and they were gone in that instant, following their mother to safety.

Already they were learning that stealth is safety. The animal that reveals itself to larger creatures is eaten, or killed as a potential competitor for small prey animals. Predators also use camouflage and surprise prey animals when hunting.

More on Seasonal Change

When Antonio Vivaldi penned his four orchestral suites The Four Seasons, he affirmed a long-standing artistic tradition. More recently, Astor Piazzolla followed this tradition with The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires. The four seasons also appear in the name of a pop band. Visual artists and sculptors have also used this theme.