Change of Seasons

by Stan Tekiela
© NatureSmart
August 17, 2007

The end of summer is a quite time for a wildlife photographer. The rush of the nesting season is over and the craziness of the fall migration hasn’t started. So for me, I spend a lot of my time chained to my computer writing, as I am doing right now. Nothing less than a super-heavy duty, titanium coated chain can keep me at my computer. Even if there isn’t much to photograph at this time of year I would rather be out in the woods, mountains, prairies or desert than be working inside. I am constantly feeling the pull of the great outdoors.

Thinking about this column got me excited for the up and coming fall migration. Just as a sports fanatic gets excited for the beginning of the football season I am really looking forward to the brief three or four weeks of migration. I know I am not alone in this feeling. I recall a time several years ago in southern Arizona. I was on a very narrow and twisting dirt road in the middle of nowhere photographing a Mexican Gray Hawk. It is a very uncommon species of migratory hawk that spends winter in Mexico but breeds in southern Arizona. Down the road came an old pick up truck with a very ornery looking old man driving. He had a rifle in the gun rack behind his head on the rear window of the truck. I stepped to the side of the road hoping he would just pass me by and not stop and give me a hard time.

Sure enough the old-timer screeches to a haul in a cloud of dust and asks me the same question I always get. “What are you doing?” Not wanting to upset the local ranch owners I pointed to the sky over-head and said I was photographing the Gray Hawk which happened to be flying over at that exact moment. The old guy looked up to see the bird and I could see his face change from concern to contentment. He looked back at me and asked, “The Gray Hawks are back?” I shrugged my shoulders and just looked up to the sky again not knowing how to answer.

I thought fore sure he was going to read me the riot act about being on a private road, disturbing the cattle or some other non-sense thing to get me to move along but he didn’t. He said, “I look forward to the return of the Gray Hawks every year. There is something reassuring about the rhythm of migration.” He went on to say it makes him feel good inside and that he fells like everything will be alright when he sees the birds migrate.

For just a brief moment a smile came to his face while he talked about the change of the seasons. He went on about the fact that we as people grow old and sometimes never slow down enough to watch and appreciate natural events such as the change of the season, bird migration or even to stop and watch the sunset or rise. I didn’t say much but I felt completely at ease and connected with this old guy who just moments before seemed to threatening.

He wrapped up his comments with a “Thanks for letting me know my birds are back”. We said our good-byes and I pondered his choice of words--“my birds”. I know how this guy feels. Sometimes I feel so connected to the world around me. I swear I can feel the rhythm of life, the cycles of Mother Nature, the changing of the seasons. I am fortunate to have a job that keeps me outdoors, close to the land and the many animals and birds that call it home. I have seen so many sunsets and sunrises that I can’t count but I still stop, watch and appreciate each one.

As I write this I look out and marvel at “my hummingbirds” which are feeding right outside my window. In just a few short weeks will fly thousands of miles to their winter home in Central and South America. Like the birds, I can feel the decreasing amount of daylight and sometimes I swear I can feel the tilt of the earth on its axis and the ebb and flow of nature that follows that tilt. I feel connected to something that is so large and so complex it often defies description—but it’s there. I feel it and so did the old man in the pickup truck. Until next time

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