don’t need a calendar
to know that fall is falling upon us. The shrinking days, the cool mornings, the mist on the water at dawn all whisper the announcement each day.
Most of the osprey have gone south, although there are a few lingering behind. In ten days time, though – we won’t see one. The sounds of the local geese foreshadow their migrating cousins, on their way to the Bay.
The butterflies, flying in wacky, unpredictable patterns like Billy in the Family Circle, wandering through the yard – are heading off to Mexico. I pull on sweatpants and a thick shirt in the mornings, and the steam from my coffee rises in the air.
A single red leaf on the ground tells the story better than I.