Even though it is autumn the temperatures doesn't feel like it. In my neck of the woods, most of the trees don't really turn until December, but the wild grape vines start to change color as if they know that today is fall. Whereas they were once this vibrant green...
...they now look like this.
Certain blooms are in their prime and in a few weeks these flowers will be crisp and brown.
And since I love mushrooms I've named this my fall fungus.
My dear friend has a much better way with words and she has written this lovely autumn poem, and in honor of the first day of fall...here it is.
Impending Fall
by Catherine Gruber
Mourning doves waddle and bob, trudging
over newly formed acorn hills and crispy, fading
blades of grass. Muscadines are letting go
of buttery leaves that flip
and twirl excitedly to meet the dry and cooling ground.
Sunlight’s reach is being stretched
now, its morning touch made gentler, caressing
not pressing upon the oaks that are growing quiet in their darkening
dusty wait for Fall.
This post is linked at Camera Phone Friday.
