Poor Will's Almanack

Among the many signs of summer’s end, the maturing of the jumpseed plant is one of the more dependable. In full bloom, it attracts clusters of cabbage white butterflies that play and court around it. And when its inconspicuous white flowers have turned to brittle seeds and jump to the ground as you run your thumb and forefinger up their stem, then the first week of Early Fall has arrived. When jumpseeds jump, bright patches of scarlet sumac and Virginia creeper mark the fencerows, and streaks of

In fields all across the country, the last wildflowers of the year come into bloom: the white and violet asters, orange beggarticks, burr marigolds, tall goldenrod, zigzag goldenrod and Japanese knotweed. It may all be too much for the bees. They have been working since the end of April, and the other day when I found a bumblebee motionsless on its side in the middle of a red zinnia, I wondered if it were overworked, drunk with nectar, a debauchee of dew or simply sleepy. Hesitant to actually

For me, nostalgia often accompanies the steady transformation of the landscape. Memories proliferate, and my mind travels back and forth through the concentric circles of the years, sifting images and feelings, recent and distant events, sorting and ruminating, nothing making much sense. This morning, I went outside into fog and dew. I saw that a big fat orb-weaver spider had made its web across the shed door overnight. I remember this time last year, I wasn’t paying attention and walked into

When I look back and try to understand what happened the other day, I reach for impressions and feelings that, in recollection, become the story. Although I had a number of appointments and other things I had to do, I only remember now that the breeze was cool and the sun was hot throughout the afternoon. And that I saw so many butterflies, many cabbage white butterflies, spinning in love randori above the red and orange and yellow zinnias. Tiny blue butterflies, azures, fluttered down into the

Even though the summer may be hot and humid and seemingly endless, its stability is deceptive. Sometimes a cold front around August 10th is especially chilly, breaking the stagnation of the Dog Days. Sometimes leaf miners lace the locust trees, creating patches of gray and brown in the tree line. Sometimes a few maples turn red and stand out like the hand of October from all the other trees of August. Bird calls have changed during the past month, and the crickets and katydids are louder. The

When Deep Summer’s wildflowers start to pale, then blackberries redden and turn sweet and black, perfect for cobblers and jam. And then, fittingly enough, the Black-Eyed Susan Moon, reaching perigee (its position closest to Earth) on August 10, becomes the Blackberry Jam Moon the very next day. That Blackberry Jam Moon, like all new Moons, gives little light, and its faint crescent will have set before the major planets, Venus, Jupiter, Saturn and Mars, follow the sunset, and it will offer no

Now in the sign of Leo, the Sun follows the ecliptic down more quickly toward autumn equinox, and time seems to accelerate as the days shorten.. Throughout its residence in Cancer, the Sun moved only a small fraction of the way toward September. Under Leo through late July and middle August, it descends three times more rapidly than it did in Early Summer, toward Virgo and Early Fall. And by the start of the second week of August, it will be one third of its way to autumn. As the day wanes

Bill Felker, the host of Poor Will's Almanack on WYSO returned to the Book Nook to discuss his latest project. Recently Bill decided to engage in another book publishing venture in addition to his annual almanacks. Over the years Bill has been keeping meticulous daily journals of his thoughts, observations, and meditations. Bill decided to take his voluminous daily records and compile them into monthly editions that are now available for readers to peruse and savor. For example, if a reader

Last week, walking west down my street late in the evening, I could see Venus straight ahead of me, a deep red-orange marker in the sky in the very last of sundown. I looked up and around, trying to find the Big Dipper and the Summer Triangle, prominent stars of a July night. I could see Jupiter in the south to my left, but haze or high clouds kept the constellations hidden. The moon, new and dark, had set an hour or so earlier, and I was alone with the planets. Not that I was really alone,

The Sun completes its residence in Cancer this week and enters the Late Summer sign of Leo on July 23, having moved about an eighth of the way toward autumn equinox. The decline of the Sun into Leo always brings a visible change to the landscape, and that change can influence attitudes and behavior. The day's length has only shortened by half an hour since solstice, but the growing night influences hormone levels in many mammals (including humans), and when the day falls below fourteen hours in