Sliding in to this season of bittersweet. Too many dates, too many anniversaries seem to tip the scale. No longer my season, I share it with– sorry, seasonal pun– a lot of ghosts.
The critical scene in To Kill A Mockingbird, when Scout is saved by Boo amidst ominous nighttime noises and rustling leaves, that was my season. I can’t see that scene but be called back to the Virginia of my youth– and then college years– when shirtsleeves and piles of crunchy leaves could go hand in hand at Halloween, and there was still a good, albeit a little scary, guy in the shadows watching out for you.
The schedule is flat out now, as expected. It’s 7/7, not enough hours in a day for the next few months. Keeping my head up just enough to see how the foliage is popping this year. The early AM with the low-lying mist is my favorite viewing, or just before or after sunset when the hills go mauve, which you can see in the second photo. The first taken on the last full day of summer, the next, two weeks later, today.
L’automne aigre-doux xo
