Autumn Inferred

photo by Kim Rockdale of St. Anne’s Church steeple, Parksville, Vancouver Island

Autumn begins to be inferred
By millinery of the cloud,
Or deeper color in the shawl
That wraps the everlasting hill.
~Emily Dickinson in “Summer Begins to Have the Look”

Summer is waning and wistful;  it has the look of packing up, and moving on without bidding adieu or looking back over its shoulder.  Cooling winds have carried in darkening clouds with a hint of spit from the sky as I gaze upward to see (and smell) the change.  Rain is long overdue yet there is temptation to bargain for a little more time.  Though we are in need of a good drenching there are still onions and potatoes to pull from the ground, berries to pick before they mold on the vine, tomatoes not yet ripened, corn cobs just too skinny to pick.  I’m just not ready to wave goodbye to sun-soaked clear skies.

The overhead overcast is heavily burdened with clues of what is coming: earlier dusk, the feel of moisture, the deepening graying hues, the briskness of breezes.  There is no negotiation possible.   I need to steel myself and get ready, wrapping myself in the soft shawl of inevitability.

So autumn advances with the clouds, taking up residence where summer has left off.  Though there is still clean up of the overabundance left behind, autumn will bring its own unique plans for display of a delicious palette of hues.

The truth is we’ve seen nothing yet.

photo by Nate Gibson
a September dawn on the farm