Life on a family farm
in the wilds of
Upstate New York
Thursday, September 08, 2016
Autumn sprinkles morning with soft orange light; dainty golden dust shines on every plant and blade. It knows no calendar...winters are long here and it needs to get its show on the road before the snow flies all too soon.
The dusty glow clings to cottonwood leaves, curls up inside, and leaves them fading tender yellow just before they turn loose of the sky and fall. You can smell them on the wind, that elusive fragrance of fall, like potatoes cooking in a country kitchen, calling, who knows where or why.
An hour after daybreak it's all gone, that delicate hue of dawn, replaced by the hard bright of midday. Then the morning glories take up the call and try to out blue the sky before they furl their nautilus curls and fall silent until another day.