The most memorable thing about September of this year was the weather. To be sure, we had days of iconic blue skies and bright sun, when the clouds sailed above and on the surface of ponds , when the country lanes were dappled with light, and when it appeared that we could see forever across the sea. But, the clouds often got angry at what we’ve been doing to the environment.
We had an unusually large number of days when the clouds hurled their rain in seeming anger at us, overpowering the the rain chain, bouncing off deck furniture, and making our birdbath do a cold boil.
And, with the rain, we often had that seacoast scene stealer, fog. At times, Great Cove would waver between invisible and poorly visible.
However, the rain did help with another effect of Climate Change: All summer, much of Maine has been ranging from abnormally dry into extreme drought. Here along the coast, however, the rains have been keeping wells full, making woodland streams frantic, and giving bog plants wet feet.
Nonetheless, the temperatures remained mild and the wildlife seemed to enjoy September. It’s the month when the White-Tailed Deer fawns are big enough to accompany their mothers into the open fields and fast enough to escape from coyotes. It’s when young bucks learn that some apples are too tart and spit them out, and when the smallest of fawns sometimes have to go to bed early.
September also is a poignant month for wildlife lovers. Its when we see the last of some of our favorite species for the year. The Osprey family that we’ve been monitoring all summer flew south during the month. However, we got a few images before they abandoned their great nest.
This month also is when we see the last of Monarch Butterflies transform from caterpillars into the migrating phase of this year’s visitors. It seemed that this year we saw fewer of this beleaguered species collecting for the migration than last year.
Of course, September is an important time for our resident wildlife. Red Squirrels start to hide food for the winter during the month and Wild Turkeys better make themselves scarce for awhile — their hunting season begins in September.
From fauna we turn to flora. There were relatively few fall colors in September, but some of the Viburnum was purple already; the leaves of a few Maples and most Dogwoods began to show; the Barberry berries turned bright red, and the leaves of Virginia Creeper became dusky red.
Our last climbing Rose bloomed and faded during September. Its distant cousins, Beach Rose flowers, start to disappear during the month. but their hips remain and wild Asters take over the fields. The last of the wild Blackberries, still red, always is eaten during the month. but Winterberry berries remain.
The Sunflowers peak during September and are at their best when their hairdos are being tussled by the fall winds. It’s also the month to buy Chrysanthemums and hope that they will last through October.
September is when we can tell whether the “wild” (abandoned) apple trees will produce a good crop. We now know that they will, which means that it’s going to be a “hard winter,” according to some oldtimers.
We turn from sylvan to sailing: September is when the annual windjammer sail-in occurs in Great Cove. This year, nine of the high-masted vessels came. Below, we see the Stephen Taber entering the Cove. There were dusk and dawn appearances of the Heritage and Angelique and the Lewis R. French caught a good breeze in the Cove.
The last WoodenBoat School boat building and sailing classes of year are in September. That’s when the work of students is displayed and the WBS small fleet is removed from the water and tucked into winter storage.
On the working waterfront, we’re told that the season has been slow so far, but there is hope that it will pick up as the water cools. However, some fishing vessels took in at least some of their traps in September.
Last, but not least, the Harvest Moon rose in September this year on the day before the Fall Equinox — she rose big and red, cooled to yellow, froze icy-white when she got into the upper atmosphere, and gave us a glittering goodbye as she sailed over Blue Hill Bay and then the Atlantic Ocean.
(All images in this post were taken in Down East Maine during September 2021.)