The season has changed though the calendar wonāt admit it, yetā¦ I feel it in my bones, this chill, the foraging for sweaters and longer skirts, and wooly socksā¦
I hear it in the geese calling overhead, the cricketsā fiddling, the quiet of outdoors abandoned and children gone back to school.ā¦
The rich earthy smell of leavesā decay, of sweet peasā final hurrah, of damp cool earth, all tell me that itās comeāFall is upon us.
The plums are gathered, tart yet sweet, to save them from marauding bears by night.Ā Apples too, for pie and crisp and sauce and all things cinnamon.Ā Last blackberries simmer into jelly.
The pole beans too are mostly picked and frozen. It is as though the sun lingers just long enough for the harvest to be gathered, the potatoes dug, before fall settles in completely.
Summerās feast of āzucchini wonderāāgarden basil, oregano and thyme, fresh tomatoes, sauteed garlic and onions, and of course, zucchini fried till tender, topped with cheese–declares that summer, fully matured, is passing on into the fall.
It comes with brilliant blue of sky and golden yellow nodding heads
–the warmth of sun staying for just a bit to usher in the cooler nights, to soften the grief of summerās leisure gone,Ā to ease us into routine– with bright countenance and cheery backdrop.
And then sun too will leave. The rains will return.Ā The bright world will pass into a silver sleep.Ā But for today, we cannot help but welcome fallās arrival, rich with fruit of summer and sweet reminisceā¦
–LS
āTruly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun.ā Eccl.11:7
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