I’m not sure where summer went in those last few weeks that often turn
really hot, but autumn came on early, like the clappers. There we were
enjoying our summery days and now we make fires inside every morning so
we can sit comfortably and have a cup of something hot without excessive
teeth chattering. We even add the benefits of our fan heater to warm
the air around our chairs until the fire starts cranking.
One day I
noticed that the sun was getting lower and the light was different,
subtly, but definitely different. The next day everything changed
drastically. Our temperatures dropped by 10 degrees overnight and
speaking of night, those temps dropped even more to close to freezing.
So,
we’re back to fighting over the covers when we were fighting to get out
of the covers. That was the worst summer I can recall here but then the
world ain’t in the best place anyway. One could cut the tension with a
breath. And then there’s my animals who’ve decided to move over from
their usual hanging out places around here to some really different
ones, further away during the day. Something is definitely going on.
They can feel it. I can feel it. But I just can’t put a name to it.
So, while I try to figure that out, enjoy
the few scenic shots of the already magnificent leaves that have gone
from summer shades to intense reds and oranges and golds overnight.
Sweeping the pathways has again become my daily pastime, though my work
is ruined with each gust of breeze that comes through the garden from
mid-morning to late afternoon and that frequently lasts all night. So, I
wonder why I bother. But in the calmness of the early morning, it makes
me feel good to make the brick paths neat when I now push the leaves
further down onto the grass or driveway gravel, even though it doesn’t
last very long. But instead of letting it accumulate for a few days on
the bricks and concrete and then doing a thorough clean up, I fool
myself into thinking it's easier if I do a little every day, pretending
it might last a day or more. That sort of proves that you can take a
city girl out of the city but you can’t put a brain into her head in the
country. Oh well. There are worse crimes (my answer to all of my
excessive failings). But really, I just like doing everything my own
way. Don’t we all?
I am the keeper of the autumn leaves now. The
guardian, like my sister Penny, of all those gorgeous contrasting and
colorful fallen leaves. Neither of us could ever bear to toss them out.
We’d rather let them be all together underfoot in piles of magnificence
or just loosely scattered by the breezes. She is missing the advent of
spring in her garden she spent so much time in and I am missing her so
as I admire these pointy leaves of all shapes and sizes as I trudge
through this unbearable pain.