If spring is born at the river's edge and the burning summer in the dust of the highway, then where do we discover fall?
Is it in the mothball-scented chests where the blankets are kept? In the hedgerow that vibrates with migrating birds? Or do you find it, like me, in the darkening sea and the immense sky of an October afternoon. Or in the dunes, scattered among the quick sweep of goldenrod.
I find fall when my shadow reaches out over the waves to meet the moon. In days that shrink before I'm done with them. In this time of anticipation, relaxing and enjoying the change, and the wait.
Yes...I'm still pondering fall while all the neighbors are perfecting their Christmas decorations!
a return Visit
1 year ago