I spotted the last seahawk of 2024, talons briefly clutching the tips of a tree above as my dogs, oblivious, sniffed the ground below. For many, fall arrives with the equinox at 8:43 a.m. Sunday. It’s when the hours of night and day balance and pumpkin spice overwhelms. For me, the shift begins when osprey cries are replaced in the sky above my home along the Chesapeake Bay by barking Canada geese. It means change is coming.
