While 
                    temperatures in the low 90s made early September seem like summer, 
                    the plants along the trail were not fooled. The Red Maples (Acer 
                      rubrum) were the first plants to show autumn colors.
            
            
            Some 
              Poison Ivy (Rhus radicans) has also changed - to maroon as 
              pictured, or to bright yellow. Toxicity drops off some in the fall 
              as the urticating oils begin to dissipate, but it's still not a good 
              idea to come into contact with it.
            
            These 
              Mockernut Hickory (Carya tomentosa) leaves have been "skeletonized" 
              - that is, insects (probably beetle larvae) have eaten all the leaf 
              tissue between the veins.
            
            Jack-in-the-Pulpit 
              (Arisaema triphyllum) berries have turned brilliant red. Later, 
              after the leaves have fallen, the berries will persist as one of the 
              last bright
                spots 
                  of fall.
            
            Another 
              sure sign of autumn, Black and Yellow Garden Spiders (Argiope aurantia) 
              have appeared in their large orb-shaped webs.
            
            Another 
              spider sits on a petal of Woodland Sunflower (Helianthus divaricatus).
            
            Brown-bodied 
              Paper wasps (Polistes sp.) are abundant on Goldenrod (Solidago 
                sp.). Here's a trick to amaze your friends: Male Paper Wasps (below) 
              have a yellow face and curled antennae tips - and lack the means to 
              sting. Female Paper Wasps (second picture, below) have a brown face 
              and straight antennae - and, as with all wasps, use their ovipositors 
              to deliver a painful sting. You can pick up male wasps between your 
              fingers with impunity. The wasps will even make stinging motions with 
              their abdomens, but they can't hurt you. Impresses the heck out of 
              viewers though. (Please explain the trick to others if you try this 
              - don't leave them thinking they can pick up any ol' wasp. Also, don't 
              try this with Yellow Jackets or Hornets - just Paper Wasps.) 
            
            
            Imagine, 
              September 9th and I saw my first Monarch (Danaus plexippus). 
              Usually, by this time of year I would have seen hundreds - and raised 
              a dozen or more caterpillars to share in Marlborough's elementary 
              school. I have seen no caterpillars this year.
            
            This 
              is an Arctiid Moth caterpillar, Lophocampa caryae, with the 
              common name of Hickory Tussock Moth (though it is not in the tussock 
              moth family). 
              Pretty spiffy looking.
            
            I found 
              this Downy Woodpecker (Dendrocopus pubescens) hammering away 
              on some pretty slender stems.
            
            On September 
              7th we had significant rain, resulting in a thick fog on the morning 
              of the 8th.
            
            
            The rain 
              resulted in a good crop of fungi. This Pore Fungus was a good 8" 
              across with a cap that could have served as a birdbath. I haven't 
              been able to identify it.
            
            
            Asters 
              (Aster sp.).
            
            
            Closed 
              or Bottle Gentian (Gentiana andrewsii), one of the last flowers 
              to bloom in summer. The blooms will persist long into the fall, gradually 
              browning but retaining a hint of purple.
            
            September 
              11th, 2001: I heard the first, tentative news on WNPR as I got into 
              my car after my walk. But September 12th on the trail was the most 
              significant for me: no contrails in the sky; and disquiet at the sound 
              of a distant siren - wondering what might be coming next. 
            Contrails 
              this year are a sign of hope: in some small way the aggregate
                heroic 
                  acts of passengers and crews carrying on.
            