Finally, daylight will be getting longer now — just in time for the frigid spell.

Owls are starting to nest in the boxes that Dick Knight built and distributed a decade ago. With the frequent storms of wind, rain and snow, the deciduous trees are now pretty much stripped of their leaves. The nests of many critters, both footed and winged have been exposed. Bird nests can be seen in the thick brush. Some are in such dense growth that it seems impossible that they could be flown in to. Squirrel nests are visible high up in the crowns of trees. Imagine the wild ride babies would endure up there during a northeaster.

Wasp nests suddenly appear right at the edge of civilization. Big gray spheres, with some just feet from where people jogged and bicycled all summer. I know from experience that if you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you. But if you throw a rock at them, they come after you. I haven’t done that for a very long time. The lesson is that when one of them stings you, it marks you with a pheromone that the others can home in on.

One fall day, years ago, I was up in Aquinnah. A friend had finished his house that spring and I wanted to pay a visit. There was no response when I knocked on the door, so I proceeded around the house, peering in the windows. I stepped carefully around the many newly planted shrubs and flowers so I was mostly looking at my feet. On the back side of the house I had my nose against the glass with my hands cupped at the sides of my head to block the sunlight reflection. I felt a light tapping sensation on the top of my bare head. I thought that it was dripping water. I backed up and looked up. A mere arms-length above where my head had just been was the opening of a huge paper wasp nest. It was over three feet tall and a foot wide. It must have had thousands of wasps in it. There were a dozen of them nervously pacing around the opening and more were emerging and joining them. Only one was airborne and hovering right in front of my face. I realized that it had been giving me warning taps on my head. That nest of wasps could have stung the daylights out of me. I marveled at the instinct that allowed them to show mercy to a big dumb galoot that meant them no harm.