From my view on the hill, autumn is fast approaching. The leaves are just starting to look like they’ve served their purpose. I suspect they’re contemplating their fall to the ground in that most ancient of recycling programs. Soon the townspeople will be out in droves raking and piling. Odd, we never rake leaves around here yet every spring they’re gone. Should no burn ordinances block the rite, neighbors will light those piles and fill the air with redolent memories from my childhood.
I love fall. I love the cold-morning air that makes me want to linger outside and listen to the flocks of birds gathering in the trees to whisper southern travel plans to one another. The gold finches have come for the thistle down just starting to fluff. This will pad their nests in late summer.
It’s wonderfully cold this morning — a temporary chill until autumn finally arrives. The days are still warm on the downside of summer; downright hot like earlier this week with 100º days. Last night all the windows were open to the coolness. Today my allergy eyes itch like crazy but the house is delightfully chilly.
I’m surrounded by native prairie. You can always tell exactly where you are in the season by the height and color of the flowers around here. We’re at the mid-point of the yellow phase, and many of the plants are taller than my 5’6″ frame. Yellows of all kinds from false sunflowers, to coneflowers, to goldenrods are everywhere and the bees love it. You know they do when you walk by a patch of flowers and every bloom has a bee mumbling away. They don’t say buzzz. They say Mmmm. Soon the New England asters will bloom. I adore that indescribable color blue on those delicate clumps — sort of a purple-blue.
The prairie grasses are growing tall and getting seed-heavy. My husband always brings in a few stalks of Indian grass for me to decorate with. I’ll hang them up to dry and put them out in October. And every year when I do, he tells me they’re the color of my hair. He insists my red hair gets darker in the fall. I’ve heard other people say the same thing. I can’t imagine why that would be. Maybe it’s just the contrast of the brighter reds and oranges in the autumn flowers and leaves? Perhaps the angle of the sun? One day soon, everyone else will see snowy white and he’ll be the only one seeing my red hair changing with the seasons. And that will be just fine with me.
Amazon has a Look Inside feature. Come read the legend that inspired my Enchanted Skye story. Better yet, pick up your own copy and read the entire tale! I enjoy writing fanciful stories based in unbelievable truths.
Did you get your FREE September issue of Hidden Desires Magazine yet? http://valterramagazines.com/
Over on my satellite blog. I’m hosting Jane Leopold Quinn for the Fall Into Romance Hop. Come see!http://calliopeswritingtablet.blogspot.com/
100 Things Blogging Challenge
“And your very flesh shall be a great poem.”
~ Walt Whitman
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