This ladies trio has sung their last medley for the season. We walked past the site again yesterday and, alas, there is no more flashy yellow singers in the grass, only one or two black-eyed susans where a week ago there were hundreds. Their day has come and gone.
Which is not to say the nature's show is over for the summer. The water lillies seemed to be perpetually budding until yesterday, when, in the morning sun, they opened by the dozen and sat afloat a multitude of pads as if they sat politely in attendance at some glorious family reunion on the pond.
And then, just in time for the 4th, these long-stemmed characters arose along the bike path, hundreds of them, symmetrically designed with an artful delicacy. Okay, they're neither as colorful nor as showy as the black-eyed susans or the water lillies, but they have their own unique and elegant grace. And even though they don't light up the sky, but they are a homemade genre of holiday fireworks all their own.
There is a season to everything, as the Bible says, and, alas, all things must pass. So today we drive straight south, back home, leaving our annual "up north" holiday behind, sadly. I guess we all have our day in the sun.
But it's still early, and I've got a couple of worms left. I think I'll go sit out on the dock and see if I can't land that northern I missed the first night. Maybe a couple perch.
We don't have to go right away.
This morning's thanks is a no-brainer. This morning's thanks is for "up north"--yours, mine, and ours. We had a wonderful time.