THE SEASONS—
Brilliant crimson screams at the viewer's eyes from this dogwood tree deep in the colorful season’s grip. Nearly four months ago already, the sun did a U-turn at the Tropic of Cancer and headed back toward its winter digs far below the Equator.
Already, Ole Sol’s shiny disc has dipped lower in our morning sky and tugs the curtain ever tighter on the length of our daylight.
Already, 10/12th of this year is nearly history.
I think I am glad about that.
But wait.
Where would we be without the pleasantly pungent assault of burning leaf smoke, or the crunch of fresh snow under our winter step, or the delightful smile of a daffodil as it scoffs at residual frost, or the sounds of a trout rising in the summer stream, or, the pleasantly pungent assault of....
Maybe I’ll just continue to find enjoyment whenever it arrives.
Brilliant crimson screams at the viewer's eyes from this dogwood tree deep in the colorful season’s grip. Nearly four months ago already, the sun did a U-turn at the Tropic of Cancer and headed back toward its winter digs far below the Equator.
Already, Ole Sol’s shiny disc has dipped lower in our morning sky and tugs the curtain ever tighter on the length of our daylight.
Already, 10/12th of this year is nearly history.
I think I am glad about that.
But wait.
Where would we be without the pleasantly pungent assault of burning leaf smoke, or the crunch of fresh snow under our winter step, or the delightful smile of a daffodil as it scoffs at residual frost, or the sounds of a trout rising in the summer stream, or, the pleasantly pungent assault of....
Maybe I’ll just continue to find enjoyment whenever it arrives.
And, in whatever form it takes.
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