The wind rose a bit yesterday, took the edge off the heat--we're into fall, like it or not. The world outside my window dresses in pastels these days--the emerald not at all so royal as it was just a week or so ago. Seasons change. There's a madness of yellow all over--the goldenrod, the sunflowers.
Mother Nature has turned down the heat, which is, at once sweet and sour--sweet because the intensity has departed, although many had it worse; sour because. . .well, I just as soon not say the word with the W. There's understatement in the subtle shifting of fall colors.
I thought I'd pull out some old pictures of this time of year--really, the best time of year on the edge of the plains, here its sunny and mild and gracious, quite becoming in shades of gold.
2003 |
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