Her day started with a pouting fog, lingering until the sun whisked it away.
She’s hesitant to start, to leave, it’s too nice, too comfortable here.
But she’s lugged that battered suitcase down the road for the last time.
Given her final instructions to the sunbeams, and told them to behave.
Blew the clouds far out over the mountains, told them to play for awhile.
Kissed the berries goodbye.
Ran her hand over the field stubble one last time.
Lengthened the dimensions of the shadows.
Sprinkled seeds and watched them go airborne into every corner of the fields.
Until finally there was nothing more for her to do.
And then she left….
On the wings of a hawk gliding golden across the fields.
We could mourn, what will it bring back?
But sorrow, and sadness.
So we rejoice in the time that we got to spend with her.
Keeping in the forefront only the good memories.
Banishing the bad.
And reliving the soft joy of summer in the taste of each opened jar of winter’s jam.
I’m still behind with my comments, there is so much to do at this time of year.
As most of you gardeners will well understand.
Please be patient with me, I’m pulling down beans, and decapitating sunflowers that have fallen over from the weight of the beans, and their nodding heads. The mice have enough to eat, they can forage somewhere else, these are for the birds.
I’m culling cucumbers, and plucking tomatoes as they are being carted to the compost.
Secretly trying to deposit zucchinis at every doorstep.
Ding, dong, zucchini calling!
Oh drat, are you answering the door with one in your hand…sigh.
In between I’m walking down the street, camera in hand, capturing every last drop of sunlight before the Autumn turns too cold.
Driving through the countryside this morning’s fog was frigid on my summer bare legs, and I shivered without a sweater. Just imagine what the birds are thinking.
The quail are back, silly, and forgetful that a cat would dearly love to pounce.
But we haven’t yet heard the call of the pheasants. There is bear scat on the road, and I will be glad when they hibernate. The coyote’s call at midnight stirs not the cat, but runs shivers down my spine.
If you would like to see more of this beautiful place that we are so lucky to call home, there is always my Instagram feed.
And MBD’s Facebook page, where I share more not seen on the blog images.
Thanks for all of the “likes”, and those who click on the share buttons, I really appreciate it!
Take good care, don’t answer the door with out a zucchini in your hand, I will be by to visit soon.
Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams