I’ve yet to step into the yard in the early morning, and sense that crispness in the air and in the light and shadow that speaks “autumn” to me in so many ways. But she is on her way. I know this. The plants are telling me. Their stalks, dappled and dry, say “Any day…
Yesterday morning dawned foggy and cold. In my morning walkabout in the backyard, I noted the first bronze and peach leaves crowning the top of our old vine maple and the brown heads of the bending goldenrod. Fresh borage plants are poking up happy blue flowers and yet one more small, self-sewn crop of phacelia…
The autumnal equinox rains her power down on me today, as I sit musing about all the things that I have and have not been this past summer season. Autumn is a time of celebrating our successes as well as our failures, and being a depressed person, it is alway easier for me to look at…