Thinking Upon Fall

I wrote a poem this morning on Creative Journey about fall creeping into the valley. It seems early but I only have to look at my photo files and garden journal to know it is about time. The grass is not as gold as in the photo above but that may be because of the extended monsoon season. But there and there is a branch on an aspen which is already gold or a Virginia Creeper vine turning red.

There are just so many images you can put in a poem unless it is the Iliad. But as one is writing it so many images spring to mind. And I found myself thinking long about the signs of fall.

The hummingbird feeders are down to two which I fill only every other day. That is down from three filled three times a day.

There are now more seed pods than bulbs on the holly hocks. I shall miss them.

Under house heat does not go on until the end of October but I plugged in the heated door mat on the deck outside the studio. It was gift. I would never have bought myself one. But when it fails I will purchase another. Nothing is quite like standing on a hot mat with bare feet taking a photograph of the dawn.

And dawn is later. I notice that more than sunset being earlier.

I have had one fire in the wood stove on a cloudy and damp day. Always end the firewood season with enough logs to toss in on those rare cold early fall days.

Time to order firewood. And schedule the chimney sweep.

I bought apples and made an apple crisp. I seldom do that except in fall.

The number of hawks in the skies around my house seems to have tripled. I can only assume some migrants are passing through and celebrating with the locals.

There is a who list of todos beyond the firewood and chimney sweep but there is still time. For now it is just great to sit on the deck and breathe. Fall smells so good.