xt7jh98zct60_32 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/2015ms086.dao.xml Bevins, Martha 0.05 Cubic Feet 55 items archival material 2015ms086 English University of Kentucky The physical rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections Research Center.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Martha Bevins letters to Tom McCarthy Radio broadcasting. Agriculture -- Kentucky. Birds Women air pilots. 1957 October 14 text 1957 October 14 2016 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/2015ms086/Box_ms_42/Folder_1/Item_32/1957_10_14_Bevins_Autumn_p1.pdf 1957 October 14 1957 1957 October 14 section false xt7jh98zct60_32 xt7jh98zct60 I _ r , ,l, in
Morning View Kentucky
14 October 1957
Hello, Mr. McCarthy,
ihe greet masses of splendidly brilliant color that formed a
glowing backdrop for last year's autumnal activities, are sadly
bedimmed this season. Leaves desiccated almost to the point of
turning brown and falling from the twigs, are nollonger possessed
of sufficient coloring elements to greet the autumn gloriously.
There simply has not been enough moisture. Our last rain Was
early in September, and it, though a good one, was far short of
supplying enough moisture to make up for the long arid weeks that
preceded it.
The trees are coloring to the best of their ability, but the
, tints are neither pure nor shining, being overlaid with a
dinginess as though one were looking at them through a dusty
window pane. The hues are different. Maples which, last year,
were great billows of flame, are only a tattered, pinkish gold
now, a pleasing color to be sure, but pallid to the eye of memory.
White oaks, which stood last year in Wine-hued richness, are,
- this season, capable of only a muddy red, slightly brighter than
russet. ihe few leaves remaining on the tall sassafras of the
, hedgerow across the pond-field are pale ghosts of the blazing
Wall of fire those trees resembled under last fall's sunshine.
All across the ridges and down the little valleys of this Sahara
3 Section, conditions are the same. Down in the narrow, twisting
} draws, an occasional tree whose roots have access to hidden Waters
can be seen clad in all the richness which is the heritage of our
deciduous trees.
Though but a wan, listless echo of its predecessor, the overall
picture is, of course, lovely, and most welcome before November's
gloom settles bleakly upon us. I appreciate every colored leaf
the more after being sta tled by the map on page 425 of October
Natural History, showing how few of us in this bedraggled world
. are privileged to dwell in areas of autumnal splendor.
a dry fall, hOWever, has its compensations. The shortage of
surface water makes watching migrating birds a much simpler task.
‘ Thirstily, they cluster at birdbath or along the shores of the
pond, in accordance with their living characteristics. Most
Warblers and other woodland birds utilize the birdbath, while
,‘ Sparrows and other field birds mingle with water's edge birds at
the pond.

 [*r ' a ~s» W‘s]. a- _itcmw, i
-2-

While sitting quietly on a rock at the side of the pond several days
ago, I Was elated to find myself almost surrounded by a great flock
of Fox Sparrows -- the largest and most dramatic of all the Sparrow
clan. They drank and bathed in the shallows, undisturbed by my
presence. I have observed individuals previously, but never such
an extensive group.
If migrating creatures are any indication, winter will be early ,
this year. The Monarchs have come and gone, spending the night on
the same branches of the same trees as in preceding years. The
significant thing about their flight this year, Was that they
passed through almost two weeks earlier than they have done since
I have been Watching them at the tree patch. a few local Monarchs
are still fluttering amid the late asters, but I do not know whether
they will migrate individually or remain to succumb to the first
freeze.
The audubon Woodpeckers (please note the gratifying plural)
were even are more ahead of schedule, arriving September 7th and
staying until this last frosty spell. I was overjoyed to see
that, instead of the usual lone male, they were a tiny flock,
two adults and Baby.
Baby was delightful. He Was most immature, both in appearance
and behavior, being a grubby, mottled grey, save for whitening

' wing tips; and he had all the characteristic idiocy of action
displayed by young woodpeckers just out of the nest. The three
arrived in the blackness of a dark night, and I cannot but wonder
how the two adults ever managed to herd the balky, Wayward
youngster along through the night sky.
His voice resembled nothing so much as one of those ratchet affairs
used for making New Years Eve noise, and he exercised it constantly,
begging food from every bird that neared him, regardless of
species. He Was perfectly capable of feeding himself, and dined
incessantly, but he could not resist asking all the other birds
to give him Whatever they were eating. He was clearly audible all
over the tree patch, and even down at the pond when the wind was
right. For several days after the encroaching chill sent the
Audubons winging southward, it seemed singularly quiet without
Baby's sandpaper screech.
Other birds are slipping southward equally ahead of schedule. Many
Warblers have already passed save for a few stragglers. More than
once, the night skys have been alive With the calls of high flying
geese. I have heard Indians Say that snow clouds follow close
behind the wild geese. If that is the case, winter must be close
indeed.

Sincerely,
@W’D/