Fair Weather

I love October. I always have. Here in south Mississippi, October is when we finally begin to see the high temps of summer taper off with some delightfully cool mornings, pleasantly warm afternoons, and deliciously chilly nights. And this year the beginning of our fall season seems to have arrived right on time, maybe even a couple of weeks earlier than usual, which is an unexpected dividend to be savored during this pandemic-stricken year. With its fair skies, often cloudless, October is a great time to be out of the house, whether working or playing. In fact, as I sit here on my patio this morning writing this paragraph, it’s a splendid 61 degrees. In weather like this, even yardwork becomes a pleasurable chore.

My grandson, Patrick, running the pine straw maze I raked up in our back yard. (Hattiesburg, Mississippi. Oct. 2016)

When I was growing up in Big Level, there were always plenty of opportunities to be outside in October. Admittedly, that was generally true all year long, but the fair weather of our Deep South fall season seemed to heighten things, whatever the experience.  There was football, the Friday night Stone High home games down at Perk stadium and also the Sunday afternoon shirts-and-skins, pick-up games at the Home School field. There were farm chores, camping trips, and preparations at school for the annual Halloween carnival.

There was also the annual county fair, an October treat I looked forward to with just about as much anticipation as I had for Christmas. The fair was held in Wiggins and when I was a kid, always on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday of the fourth weekend of every October. I could fairly contain my excitement as I anticipated the carnival rides, the midway attractions, and the concession foods. I even enjoyed meandering through the livestock barn and the homemaking and crop exhibits in the American Legion Hut. The fact that the fair coincided with my late October birthday made it all that much more special.

And there was hay to be hauled. I look back on the late summer/early fall haying season with nostalgic fondness. Back in that square-bale era it was a much more labor-intensive operation than it is nowadays—loading the hay bales in the fields, stacking them onto large flatbed trucks or trailers or smaller pickups, and then riding the stacks to the barns where the bales were unloaded and restacked. Yeah, it was hard work, often hot and sweaty, but never an unpleasant job. There was, and still is, a certain romance about it. Just the thought of those days now evokes the sweet smell of freshly-cut bahiagrass, the itchy and scratchy bales, the dustiness of the barns, and the laughter and camaraderie that invariably accompanied the work.

Hauling hay in south Mississippi, c. 1965

I distinctly recall a Saturday in early October, just two or three weeks before my 17th birthday. I’d spent the day hauling hay on Uncle Warren’s and Uncle Gordon’s cattle ranch in lower Big Level. Early that coolish morning, I rode my Honda down to my uncles’ place and parked it under an oak tree near the barns behind their country store, Big Level Grocery, before riding out to the hayfields with the other dozen or so teenaged boys assembled for the day’s labor. As we were all either cousins or classmates, or both, we generally had a good time, spending the day and a good part of the evening in the field, having our lunch and our supper under the trees at the store, along with two or three free Barq’s root beers.

When the work was done, well after dark, I hopped on my motorcycle for the 4-mile trip back home. About halfway in, while cruising along at 65mph down the big hill just past Big Level School, the snake on my bike caught my eye. Yep, I said snake! It was coming up right in front of me between the speedo and tach mounted center of the handlebar, swaying in the wind—picture a cobra dancing to its master’s flute.

The instrument cluster on my 1970 Honda CB175.

Let me stop right here and state for the record: Personally, I don’t like snakes. In fact, I can hardly write this without getting the willies.

This snake, however, was no cobra, just a mere garter snake or some other garden-variety kind of tree snake. I know this only by after-the-fact logical deduction and not by direct observation, for I could not have made such an assessment in the split second it took for this reptilian piece of vermin to snake its way up from its midday’s shaded resting place atop the motorcycle’s cool engine, an engine that had now grown considerably hot.

After it climbed about a foot in the air, and before I could even fathom what my plan of attack or defense should be, the wind caught the snake and blew it slap dab back upon me. It’s a great fortune of nature that my instincts took over and allowed me to swat this zigzagging serpent away with my left hand while maintaining control of the bike with my right. Had it not happened so fast, I’m purt-near positive I would have died that day or at least suffered much physical and mental anguish. It’s fair to say there were no heroics involved; it was all gut reaction. Had there been any time for me to contemplate some other course of action, I’m pretty sure I would have let that snake have the bike.

I’m proud to say, to my manly credit, I didn’t scream or do anything hysterical. Once that critical split-second was over and all danger had seemingly passed, I rode on home without stopping, not to check to see if there were any other fair-weather foes lurking under the seat, nor even slowing down for the highway at White’s Crossing. Upon arriving safely home, I parked the bike on the carport with my mind already on a much-needed shower and getting to bed. But as I headed toward the back door, I was mightily startled by a fair-sized cockroach scurrying under my feet. Still, there was no screaming; however, I did perform an Olympic-class feat to make it to the doorsteps in one giant leap. That cockroach could have been a cobra for all I knew.

WORDS TO PONDER

Fair (adj.): pleasing to the sight, beautiful, handsome, attractive, light of complexion or color (of persons and body features, also of objects, places, etc.); bright, clear, pleasant, not rainy (of weather); generally suitable, agreeable, (as opposed to foul); morally good, according with propriety, according with justice, equitable, impartial, free from bias; comparatively good, above average, considerable, sizable; in play (as opposed to foul, in the context of certain sports). [From Old English fæger, from Old Saxon fagar, from Proto-Germanic fagraz]
Fair (noun): a stated market in a town or city; a regular meeting to buy, sell, or trade; a festival, a religious feast day. [from Anglo-French feyre, from Old French feire, faire, from Latin feria]
Fair/fairly (adv.): beautifully, correctly, moderately, directly, squarely, honorably, justly, equitably, impartially; without prejudice, fear, or favor.
Source: etymonline.com

Willies (noun): a fit of nervousness or jitters — often used with the definite article.
Synonyms: dithers, heebie-jeebies, jimjams, screaming meemies, shakes, shivers, whim-whams. [origin unknown]
Source: www.merriam-webster.com

SONG OF THE DAY

“Grazing in the Grass” by The Friends of Distinction (Grazin’, 1969)