September-soundways | Fall Morning | The Swell of the Migration
Autumn begins to be inferred, date unknown (Fr1693[A])
According to the Snell meteorological record the median temperature in September was 57,8º F, with the thermometer rising as high as 80º F and falling to a low of 41º F, occasioning a brief frost. Rain and snowmelt totalled a little over 2.5 inches. Stratus clouds were abundant, alternating with stratocumulous and nimbus, and, rarely, with cumulous, cirrus, and cirrocumulous clouds. Winds from the NW and W prevailed, though winds from all directions swept through September. Fine days—Sept. 1, 2, 6, 7, 8, 10, 14, 17, 19, 20, 21, 26, 27, 28—were interspersed with days of rain—Sept. 3, 4, 5, 9, 11, 12, 18, 24, 29, 30 (“cleared at evening”). A rainbow stretched across the sky on Sept. 8; and a bright aurora arch appeared in the sky on Sept. 20.
Bird species in September’s scatterplot exceed 100.
:00
September is woven on the shuttles of Amherst’s silk looms and the murmuring of cicadas, katydids, crickets, grasshoppers.
:15
The listener listens to a procession of departures.
First the diurnal migrants: Sharp-shinned Hawks, Broad-winged Hawks, Red-tailed Hawks, Marsh Hawks, Cooper’s Hawks, Merlins, Peregrine Falcons, Osprey, and Crows.
:31
And next the shorebirds: Green and Black-crowned Night Herons, American Wigeons, Shoveler Ducks, Terns, Wood Ducks, Green-winged Teals, Sandpipers, and Yellowlegs.
:35
In the din it is necessary to attend closely to hear the Warblers beginning their exodus down the latitudes.
:40
And to hear the songbirds not yet in the skies furtively departing from the understory.
:46
In the up- and down-drafts of the fall-ing world, four birds sound briefly: the Whip-poor-will, the Bobolink, the Hummingbird, and the House Wren, who sings last and longest.
1:12
In 1864, Wild Pigeons still passed through this region in September in flocks of 3-5 billion birds, causing “a torrent” and “a noise like thunder” (J.J. Audubon). The pigeons flew at a speed of 100 km/hr. Their song may have sounded like “the creaking of a tree” (Waabu O’Brien).