Author: pan Psax

Shared joy, double joy. Shared sorrow, half sorrow. My best friend died today. Cancer. It was quick, within days. I dare say he lived a happier life than most dogs. He was used to walking free, off leash, because he knew when to wait and when to go. He was calm, friendly, loving and a very smart dog.

His final place would be at the end of the garden without a fence, at home, overlooking the fields and woods where he was used to sprinting for the joy of movement and speed.

He was nine and his name was Jan Ámos.

It’s getting colder. It is almost as if someone snapped their fingers, and autumn is here in full force. Last week, there was thick fog both day and night. Twice, while driving home along country roads, I had to rely on GPS navigation to know when to turn because everything around was a white haze.

The walnut tree in front of the house turned yellow and dropped all its leaves within a few days (we had them covering the yard and clogging the gutters). The Great tits, Blue tits, and Eurasian tree sparrows (Parus major, Cyanistes caeruleus, Passer montanus) have returned—I put out some fat balls for them, and ever since, two flocks have been around the house constantly. Dendrocopos woodpeckers returned, and even a green woodpecker appeared—probably a Grey-headed woodpecker (Picus canus) or a young (smaller) European green woodpecker (Picus viridis). A chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs) has also been spotted in the area.

With the trees now bare, bird nests are revealed, making it the perfect time for mapping them.

Although the temperature dropped quickly, it hasn’t gone below 0 °C yet. And according to forecasts, real winter (with snow and such) isn’t expected until the second half of January. This year is expected to be the warmest on record.

The butterflies have disappeared, and there is the occasional lone flyer that wanders into the light, like the mottled umber (Erannis defoliaria), the December moth (Poecilocampa populi) and the winter moth (Operophtera brumata).