Times are a'changing. It's increasingly starting to look like autumn here along the river. Not much in the way of color yet, as other than poison ivy and Virginia creeper, there are few early-turning sorts of trees and shrubs hereabouts to dazzle with gaudy leaves. A few bits of anemic yellow on the box elders, the odd rusty brown dinner-plate-sized leaf on a sycamore—but otherwise, the landscape is still mostly green. Faded and frayed, perhaps, but green.
The real color will come in a week or two, maybe three. Somewhere around the 26th of the month is usually the peak.
And yet…there's no mistaking the new season's takeover. The look and feel, sound and smell and mood is definitely autumnal, from the noisy flocks of Canada geese regularly winging overhead, to the dew-damp morning air carrying hints of windfall apples and distant woodsmoke.
Yesterday was rainy and cool. No, make that cold—the day's high never managing to edge beyond the mid-40s˚F. Cold enough that Myladylove built the season's first fire in the woodstove. Which felt good and was most welcome, as it took a decidedly uncomfortable chill from the house while we worked between showers to finish a handful of small jobs on our endless remodeling list.
Today promises to be fairly sunny and reach into the low-70s˚; so no woodfire will be needed. But a milepost has been passed nevertheless. The times are definitely a'changing.
