Fog and katydids have arrived, and officially, our autumn season has begun. Everyone has their favorite month, however, I suspect that many of us would not say September is their favorite.

September, with its warm days and cool nights, has a lot to offer such as harvest suppers and the last splash of summer as we leave the hot days of August. September is also the official month of the harvest moon, which is the name given to the first full moon that occurs closest to the autumnal equinox. The harvest moon rises at the same time for several nights.

There are signs of fall beginning to appear everywhere. Sumac leaves are showing a tinge of yellow and red; robins and other birds are gathering into small flocks, a sure sign that the migration is close at hand; turkey vultures, which are seen soaring on the rising air currents, have begun their migration; fall flowers, including goldenrod, thistles, chicory, tansy, and others, are in full bloom.

In some years, spring will be late in arriving, but nature will catch up during the fall. Although autumn is still ahead of us with its bountiful harvest, the plants are already preparing for next year. The flowers are blooming, fruits are ripening and nuts are starting to fall from the trees, all this in preparation for next year. Soon, the birds, water and yes, even humans, will help the plants to disperse their seeds in favorable spots to insure survival of the plant species.

It’s by no coincidence that the plants that produce the most seeds are the plants we consider weeds. For example, one mustard plant can mature a half million seeds in a single season; one pigweed plant will produce 200,000 seeds and one purslane plant also ripens 200,000 seeds in a season. Humans still have much to learn from nature. Perhaps in the future, we will be able to mix the mustard plant with the oat plant and come up with an edible plant that would produce an unbelievable amount of seeds.

While the plant world is changing, the insect world is also changing. You will never hear more calling, buzzing, clicking, humming and chirping from insects than you will in September.

Katydids are singing their familiar song of katy-did, from which their name comes. Early farmers, which used the katydid as a weather prophet, thought that the insect was saying, “six more weeks”, meaning that’s all the time the farmers had to get in their crops and prepare for winter. There were others that believed the katydid was saying, “frost is near.” No matter which was correct, when the katydids are heard we know summer is coming to an end.

Nights come alive with the sound of the male’s singing as he files across his wings, making them vibrate to the tune of katy-did. If you listen closely and use your imagination, he will quickly receive an answer that seems to say “katy-didn’t.”

The male does all the singing to the female, who does not sing. Mostly, the male begins singing at dusk and keeps up his love song throughout the night. Katydids live in trees and shrubs and feed on leaves but do very little damage.

In early fall and continuing until frost appears, the female will begin laying her eggs.

The fog and mist of September mornings are also signs of the coming changes. September dawns can carry cool air, which sinks into the valleys and when it meets the warm ground, the mixture means morning fog or mist. If this fog is hanging above a pond or lake, we generally call it mist. The cool morning breezes seem to make the fog dance, and it doesn’t disappear until the sun reaches high above the horizon.

On a September morning, as you drive over one of the many high ridges in Pennsylvania and look down, it appears as if the valleys are draped in cotton. As you watch, the fog will magically disappear, leaving one to wonder where it went.

Human activities that also show signs of fall are the sound of a chain saw ringing through the woods; roadside stands displaying the fall harvest; sweaters and light jackets appearing on early risers, and of course, those big yellow school buses parked at local garages.

Once the asters appear I know I better have the list of house repairs completed.

I can’t imagine living in an area where seasons have little change. The changing of the seasons is nature’s special gift. Each season has its own reward, such as the beauty of a winter’s snowstorm; the feeling of renewal when viewing spring’s green and yellow colors; the days of summer spent leisurely enjoying life, and lastly, the beauty of fall along with its bountiful harvest. Each season is different, and for me, I enjoy the change as much as the season itself.

Bill Bower is a retired Pennsylvania Game Commission Wildlife Officer. Read his blog and listen to his podcasts on the outdoors at www.onemaningreen.com.