the best is yet to come

Lots of purple loosestrife in bloom along roadside ditches, in highway medians, and local waterways. During a drive today we noticed several hawks perched on highway light poles. Migration time nearing? Meteorological autumn starts two weeks from tomorrow. With any kind of luck, the change of seasons will be accompanied by a major improvement in local weather, although most of the recent batches of thunderstorms passed to our south or farther to our north. Update: we've recently been put under a flash flood watch from 10 pm tonight through tomorrow morning.

maple leaves in color on a railing

Photo by J. Harrington

Isolated patches of leaf color, except for sumacs that have largely turned red(ish), are showing up in other trees in the area. Autumn Equinox occurs locally on Monday, September 22, 2025 at 1:19 pm CDT. As the effects of climate change grow stronger, I become more enthused about enjoying my favorite season, Autumn. Cooler temperatures, lower humidity, fishing, hunting, color change, harvest feasts are far more to my taste than sultry, humid, lightning-flashed days and nights. When I was younger and still living on the Massachusetts coast, the approaching time of year left me feeing like a kid in a candy store as striped bass and bluefish schooled up and headed south in coastal waters while inland and up country ruffed grouse season opened and preceded duck season.

Meanwhile, thanks to the weather (storms, smoke, heat, humidity) I'm still working on last Spring's yard cleanup. It's looking more and more like this year's leaves will be falling before I've finished cleaning up last year's. And furthermore, I don't really care. I'm back to finishing reading Jenny Odell's How to Do Nothing, Resisting the Attention Economy. Much to my pleasant surprise, she has incorporated bioregionalism as part of her strategy. [Here's an essay of hers on the topic.] I've been running hot and tepid about bioregionalism for some years now, I suspect because I've been approaching it more mechanically than organically. Time to practice the old zen approach: "fall down seven times, get up eight." 

Testimonial

By Rita Dove

 

Back when the earth was new

and heaven just a whisper,

back when the names of things

hadn't had time to stick;

back when the smallest breezes

melted summer into autumn,

when all the poplars quivered

sweetly in rank and file . . .

the world called, and I answered.

Each glance ignited to a gaze.

I caught my breath and called that life,

swooned between spoonfuls of lemon sorbet.

I was pirouette and flourish,

I was filigree and flame.

How could I count my blessings

when I didn't know their names?

Back when everything was still to come,

luck leaked out everywhere.

I gave my promise to the world,

and the world followed me here.

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.