Mid-autumn

And when I wasn't looking, the meadow went brown and dry.

Before: goldenrod and milkweed pods fattening on their stalks. Clusters of purple asters throughout the field, bright spots among the drying weeds. Now the asters themselves are dried, and brown, and gone. Trees are blown half-bare. Still, there are some leaves left: scattered gold and brown on the walking path, and more trees forming tunnels of color along the roads.

Falling

Today the President of United States tweeted this, just as Hurricane Florence bears down upon the East Coast.

There is no bottom. We are all just falling, endlessly.

Summer flowers in the meadow

The remnants of a wild meadow by my house, skirting a new nursing care development:

The first flowers of spring/summer: dandelions, grape hyacinth, violets. Later: red clover.

Now: the purple globes of milkweed blossoms. The thick scent of honeysuckle. Purple vetch, with their bell-like blossoms hanging downward from only one side of a stalk. Pink sweet pea along the side of roads, and numerous tiny white flowers for which I have no name. Sumac is ripening red, and mulberries on the trees behind our yard are sweet and perfectly ripe.