Season Change

7 Aug

Each day on the walk there is something from Father God as a blessing: a feather, the small round half-shells of wild cherry pits which something opened (how?) for the nut meat,  an unusual insect – or a pair of them, another wing from a dragonfly, small wings from a grey moth left by the bird that ate the moth, a turquoise larva being attacked by ants, a beech leaf with its center layer eaten by a worm so it seems it contains a grey and black road map.

Lately each morning has also indicated that summer is coming to a close; this morning it was the two large patches of soil that had been scraped mostly clean of vegetation by the front hooves of a buck.  Kind of early for that, I thought.  But maybe not.

Then the fact that our eldest child, now a 20-yr-old young man, moved many of his material goods into his first apartment Friday.  He has not come back since.  But he better because otherwise clothes mountain in the basement  will be removed to a thrift store Monday.

The blueberries are past their peak, the red raspberries are coming on, the corn is ripe.  I need to plant lettuce and beets and other greens for the fall. And the rain.  Yesterday only about .25 hundredths of an inch.  But it is pouring out now.

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