When the dog and I walked out of the house this morning, the temperature was 47 degrees. As we started our walk, I noticed the wild ferns. Always a vibrant green, they now are turning yellow and withering. It's only the first weekend after Labor Day, but fall has arrived in the mountains.
The morning is damp...feel it in your bones damp. And mine do. Some of the trees are dropping leaves already. Not the ones that make autumn worthwhile with their show of color, but the ones which quickly turn brown and drop. Another week or two, the large red oak in the backyard will be showing off its fiery crimson color, when it greets me as I look out the bedroom window in the morning. And too not long after, it will be bare.
Summer flowers are beautiful, but I think we take them for granted. There are colors of the rainbow everywhere in the summer. But autumn's colors have a more select palette. Yellow, orange, red and some purple...the final colors we can taste with our eyes, before the world turns gray and brown, and eventually is covered in white.
Hopefully I can squeeze in a walk around the lake this afternoon, before it is time to pack up and go back to the real world. I want to catch as many good days as I can. Last year, with the exception of the Halloween storm, there wasn't any snow to speak of. This year, I doubt we will be as lucky.
So breathe in the last bit of summer, take the time to capture the look and feel of it. Way too soon, the lawn mower will be put away in favor of a rake and blower.
Or, just watch some football...whatever.
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