Getting Colder

Yesterday it got so cold that we started heating in the pens again. Outside, in the real world, though, there is no heating, and life still goes on. In the woods, it is some of the tiniest trees that are turning color first, while the bigger ones are still green and leafy.

Out in the pasture, one of our volunteer persimmon trees is completely bare of leaves, though the orange-colored fruit is hanging on, like bright Halloween decorations.

 There is nothing spookier than a bare tree that gives fruit.

You would think that in this kind of weather, both the butterflies and the flowers would all be gone by now. But no, yesterday I saw a lone Great Spangled Fritillary butterfly on a thistle flower. Next to it was a stand of persimmon trees that had not yet lost their leaves.

Some people age rapidly, others take their time. There is always the last flower of the season -- the last butterfly.

Bow does not let the weather keep him from going outside, though he asks to come in more frequently now.

He gets his exercise in the outer pen, then examines himself to see that nothing has gotten injured while he is frenzied and carried away.

Then when he is ready, he comes in and asks for his blanket, which is by now frayed at the edges and has a hole in it.  But not to worry, he'll soon be getting a new blanket for Christmas. This one has lasted much longer than its predecessors.

Bow is becoming more mature and more responsible. He is a chimpanzee of good character, and he's in this for the long run, like the last butterfly of the season.

Unseasonably Warm and Windy with a Guest Wasp

Today has been unusually warm for an autumn day. All day long the wind has been whipping at the leaves.

Bow asked to go outside in the morning and enjoyed expressing himself.

He let everyone know exactly how he felt: strong and important and powerful.

He talked to the dogs in a gentler tone.

He watched the wind whip at the leaves.

And he settled down into a quiet contemplation of nature.

Bow settled down into some deep thoughts that he did not share with me.

We are close, but even in closeness not all is revealed.

After lunch I went for a walk in the pasture in the hot breezy air. When I returned, I found that Bow had an unexpected guest in the inner pen with him: a wasp.

The wasp was walking around on the floor, and Bow was ignoring it. I went to get a container to put over the wasp. Bow was singularly uninterested in what I was doing.

I then needed to get a nice stiff sheet of paper to put under the container, so I could transport the wasp out. The laminated newspaper account about the signing for "Theodosia and the Pirates" that Representative Ross had sent me earlier this year came in handy for that.

I slipped the laminated newspaper under the container and the wasp was trapped and ready for transport.

Bow was not interested in the wasp still. Something else on the floor caught his attention.

He did not object, however, when I took the wasp outside to release it. The wasp did not seem in a hurry to fly away, though.

When I went back to Bow in the inner pen, he did not mention the wasp at all. He just wanted me to get him his rug.