At first I was skeptical of September. Now, six days in, it has turned out to be just the peek at fall I’ve been hoping for. Finally, it is time to come outdoors and utilize our new garden. Sam is springing all across the lawn like a jackrabbit, digging frantically at the edge of the fence and barking at twigs as his steps make them crunch. A few wild strawberries hang on between blades of grass, and bees zip from stem to leaf on the hedge of purple sage. There are still those hints of summer lurking, but then the clouds move over the sun and bring a moment or two of cool shade (see, there it is) that hints at the drop in temperature to come. Our hackberry tree is beginning to drop its leaves, so one patch of lawn appears almost in need of raking.
I barely recognize our yard. What used to be a blank canvas of grass upon grass, with a few blocks of thick concrete to make a path and tiny patio is now carved out with cobblestones and flowerbeds. Our wheelbarrow and potting tools still line up along the fence, waiting for next spring I guess. Or one of us to put them away.
Oddly, things keep flying past my face…first a tiny spider (I didn’t know spiders could fly, but I swear it was one), then a little hair belonging to nothing, next a crackly leaf that bounced off my head, and just a moment ago, a huge monarch butterfly that whisked past on its way to explore the pink house next to us. My advice would have been to stay over here, had it paused long enough to consider the options.
I probably need to write about something besides the weather soon, but the seasons have intrigued me lately, I think because I realize how much is about to change. I have started to feel the baby’s first kicks, a preview. Kind of like September.
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Please don't stop writing about the weather; I am living vicariously through your seasons! Would you take pictures of changing leaves? Please?
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