”There is melancholy in the wind and sorrow in the grass.”
---Charles Kuralt, American journalist and the first anchor of CBS News Sunday Morning
Behind us are the long hot days of summer, replaced by these transitional days of early Autumn.
The full-flowering of summer has dwindled and I have grown apart from the intense midsummer relationship that brought it on. Morning dew clings heavily on the morning grass and gives way grudgingly to the bright sunshine that casts long shadows at my feet.
The insect symphony that serenaded me in the fullness of summer's early mornings and late afternoons is silent now.
The cardinals and mockingbirds frolic playfully outside my window, seeming to know they are in the last gasp of summer.
The wind sings as it billows through the tree, teasing her green leaves into one last dance before shedding her costume; the sun shines brightly overhead, warming my back instead of beating my head.
Cool mornings and still cooler evenings are a foreshadowing of things to come, when September’s sadness will give way to the brief respite of October, when the brilliance of gold, orange, red and yellow will tease us and produce energy and hope before the final curtain call.
I look at the deciduous flowering cherry trees on which not a single leaf remains - victims of a hot dry summer.
Near them stand the majestic evergreens, tall of stature, deep of color, unwavering in their beauty. Do the bare trees envy their fully clothed sister during the depths of winter? Do they wonder why Mother Nature sees fit to strip them and allow their sisters to remain clothed?
|The Sycamore tree showing the first tinge of autumn color|
"The foliage has been losing its freshness through the month of August, and here and there a yellow leaf shows itself like the first gray hair amidst the locks of a beauty who has seen one season too many."- Oliver Wendell Holmes
Southern Magnolia seed pods
|Endless Summer Hydrangea making a last stand|
|Roma tomato struggling to ripen before first frost|