By the calendar it's autumn…though the temperature feels more like summer. Still, in spite of this seeming inconsistency, time and season move inexorably along a pathway written in the stars, responding to the simple mechanics of orbit and tilt.
Today I find myself feeling much like this New England Aster—faded and more than a bit worn, with no edge that isn't noticeably ragged. I'd like nothing better than to spend the morning sitting on the deck watching the river—such as remains of it after our prolonged drought—slip gently downstream. Alas, I have another appointment at the optometrist's, a stop afterwards at the grocery, and an article to write and send in once I get back home. And after that…well, let's just say my dance card is full for the afternoon.
That's really not a complaint. I like staying busy; appreciate having work; and have great hopes that this time the vision problems I've been having since spring will be corrected with the new lenses I'm to pick up.
Sill, I'd like to just kick back, play hooky from responsibility, and join this old wildflower in the meadow for a long day's bask in the sun…