Late August still feels like summer here in the Ozarks, but it

The words of Sue Hubbell — “Late August still feels like summer here in the Ozarks, but it is the time of year the nighthawks are moving on to their South American wintering grounds.” — are spoken with the quiet wisdom of one who watches the earth closely and listens to its rhythms. They remind us that the world has its seasons, that what appears still is always changing, and that life is forever in motion even when our senses would deceive us into thinking otherwise. For in the heat of summer, when the days still burn bright, the nighthawks already know the truth: the time of departure has come.

Here, Hubbell speaks not only of birds, but of the eternal pattern of life. The nighthawks become symbols of transition, teachers of impermanence. While humans may cling to the illusion of permanence — believing that August is still high summer — the creatures of the earth feel the deeper currents of time. They move when they must, not when it seems convenient. To watch them moving on southward is to glimpse the wisdom of adaptation: the ability to recognize when the season has changed, even if the air still clings to yesterday.

The ancients often told stories of those who failed to read the signs of change. Think of the fall of Pompeii, when the people lived merrily under the shadow of Vesuvius, blind to the smoke and trembling of the earth until destruction overtook them. They mistook permanence for security. Yet the nighthawks do not make this mistake; they heed the hidden signals of the world, and because they heed them, they endure. In Hubbell’s words lies the gentle urging that we, too, must learn to sense the deeper rhythms, not just the surface warmth of a season.

Nature, then, becomes the great teacher. The nighthawks remind us that to cling too long to the comfort of the present is dangerous. Just as they begin their long journey south when the world still feels like summer, so must we sometimes move forward before it seems necessary. Life demands courage to leave the familiar, to trust the instinct that whispers: now is the time to go, now is the time to change. The wise do not wait for perfect conditions, but set their course when the signs call them.

The lesson is clear: pay attention to the cycles that govern your own life. Perhaps it is a season of work that has grown stale, a relationship that no longer gives life, a habit that has run its course. Though the days may still feel warm and safe, though change seems premature, the truth may already be moving. Like the nighthawks, learn to sense the invisible turn of the seasons, and when the time comes, have the courage to move on.

History offers us luminous examples. Consider the Pilgrims who left Europe in search of a freer life across the ocean. They departed not because their land was already destroyed, but because they sensed that remaining would wither their spirit. The journey was perilous, the timing uncertain, yet like the migrating bird, they followed a calling beyond mere comfort. Their willingness to move before it seemed necessary gave birth to a new chapter in human history.

Practical wisdom follows. Do not cling blindly to the surface signs of your present life. Look deeper. Ask yourself: is this still my season, or am I being called to something new? Learn to read the subtle signals of your spirit as the nighthawks read the sky. When you feel that pull, do not delay, for waiting too long may leave you stranded in a season that has already passed. Begin small — take one step into the unknown — and trust that endurance lies not in staying, but in moving with the current of life.

Thus, Hubbell’s words endure as a quiet yet powerful teaching: the earth is always turning, the seasons always shifting, and wisdom belongs to those who can sense when it is time to move on. The nighthawks do not argue with the sky; they follow it. So too must we learn to follow the rhythm of change, leaving behind the warmth of yesterday in order to find the sustenance of tomorrow. Know your seasons, honor their endings, and move forward with courage.