Indian Summer

October 9, 2010 § 3 Comments

This politically-incorrect term couldn’t be more relevant than today – after some weeks of cool temperatures, wood fire, and a couple of frosts, today feels like a hot, humid summer day, all on the backdrop of the fall colors at the peak of their gold-and-scarlet splendor. It feels unnatural, really – fiery leaves hang precariously from the branches, while the crunchy carpet underfoot is louder than ever. It is clear that it will take no more than a single windstorm to strip the trees clean.

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For now, however, I relish being suspended somewhere between summer and fall, the place as magical as it is ephemeral.

This here is a black cherry in our yard, where wrens nest in the summer. By now, wrens are long gone, and the occasional calls of the passing migrants rip through the air now and then.

This is a green ash in our front yard – it grows next to a mountain ash whose berries are picked clean every fall by the waxwings who come to my yard on their yearly pilgrimage. Now these two trees have a story – an elderly couple who lived here before us planted the two trees next to each other, the green ash for him, the mountain ash for her. Overtime, his tree grew tall and wide, cradling her tree by its side, their branches intertwined. I know this because once, on a bright fall day like today, she stopped by her old home and told me this and other stories.

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§ 3 Responses to Indian Summer

  • Foodie says:

    The last one is awesome! The ladybug invasion is a defining part of fall here & it’s hard to show them. Love how you got the lady without the spot of red. You have a wonderful sense of color.

    (And my sheepish golubtzi experiment is there, if you click on the link.)

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