It is the first Tuesday in September, and village children are off to school, walked all the way there (or just to the bus stop) by proud parents, big brothers and sisters, and (occasionally) family pets. I have known many of the kids since they traveled about in prams, and here they are going off to school. Dear me, how time flies...
On our walk this morning, we counted several bright yellow school buses trundling along village streets, something we have not seen in our travels for a few months. The cheerful crossing guard who presided over a nearby corner last year was back on duty, and we compared notes on how our summers had gone.
The youngsters wear jackets in confetti colors, carry backpacks and lunch boxes in pink, turquoise and lime green, tote miniature umbrellas patterned in flowers or bunnies or polka dots. They bloom like pint-sized peonies out in the street, and watching them from the window, I feel like doing a little blooming too.
Only a short distance away, other brightly arrayed offspring have hatched out in village hedgerows and thickets, and they are strengthening their glorious wings for the long journey south to begin in a week or two. I shall be sad when they depart.
When Monarchs alight on fall asters in the garden, the combination of orange, purple and gold is dazzling. Every butterfly is a stained glass jewel, a wild, vivid and breathtaking wonder. Lacking a clearly visible black pheromone spot on the rear wing, the butterfly at the top of this post may be female, but I am not sure. Sometimes the spot is not visible in profile.
There are vibrant colors everywhere I look in early September, and they are a sumptuous treat for these old eyes. It doesn't matter whether the riotous tints are on Virginia creepers, monarch butterflies, coneflowers or tiny raincoats - they invite me to kick up my heels and dance, or more likely just lurch about.
1 comment:
Your recounting of kids going to school reminds me of my 1 mile walk, alone for the beginning and later joined by classmates. It seemed like an adventure every day...would I see the horse in someone's yard, would there be ice in the streams.
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