Daylight hours already seem shorter, and nights feel a little longer. For the most part, geraniums have given up blooming, and there are fewer cicada songs in the old trees close to home. Pots of chrysanthemums are starting to appear on thresholds, and it won't be long until they are joined by other autumn clobber like cornstalks, wreaths, gourds and scarecrows. Geese fly to and fro between farm fields and the river, calling as they pass overhead at dawn and dusk.
We have had a fair bit of rain in recent days, and on morning walks, there is often a fine veil of drifting fog. Puddles are everywhere, and leaves, pine cones and maple keys are strewn like confetti along our path. Hedgerows are strung with spider webs, every strand beaded with dew and glistening.
Village squirrels are filling their larders, and there is a steady rain of nuts and drupes from tree branches overhead when we go for a walk. As we wander along, Beau and I are pelted from on high by small hard projectiles, and our tender noggins have become well acquainted with acorns, conkers, hickory nuts and crabapples. No walnuts though, the squirrels made off with those some time ago.
When I went out to the deck before dawn this morning, Orion was rising in the east, and the stars in his shoulders, boots, belt and sword twinkled like old friends. Mars and Jupiter danced above his left shoulder, and now and then, a glowing shard from the Perseid meteor showers went streaking across the sky. The annual meteor shower peaked last weekend, but it can still be viewed from time to time if one is up and about early. Standing out on the darkened deck in my jammies with Beau and looking at the stars is a fine way to start the day.
Part of me wants to dance (or lurch) about and celebrate the notion of cooler temperatures and starry skies, the burnished glorious colors about to come into their own. Another part is dismayed by the thought of an early autumn. Fall should not arrive until mid September at the very earliest, and then it ought to hang about until the end of November.
Please Mama, let there be many more weeks of sun and warmth and gentle breezes, no ingathering and cold nights for quite a while longer.
1 comment:
Yes, indeed they are! This is the part of August I love best and some years it doesn't come, these early intimations of autumn. I do wish glorious fall will remain until the end of November but of course, we take what we get. I haven't seen many squirrels about and imagine they are far too busy in the deeper woods gathering for the larder. This year there are a lot of acorns and the leaves are falling already.
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