Heat and humidity dragged relentlessly into September. In Western Pennsylvania summer seemed determined not to end. And then finally the maples thrust forth their first glorious colors and fall was here – for a few short weeks. It is my favorite season but it never lasts long enough.
October’s “bright blue” weather took on the gloom of London fog. The month remained grey and moody even though the leaves were brilliant. Then a few days of heavy rain and temperatures down in the low 20’s and the leaves tumbled. Before we had cherished enough of their light and color, they were gone. Black tree trunks and branches stand bare now to the wind.
The Norway Maples always save their glory for November, bless them. They line my driveway and have sent their prolific seedlings to populate the road across from the house. When only the softer, sober colors of the oaks are left, the Norway Maples line the road in gold! But even they are not immune to time and temperature. It seems unfair that autumn is so fleeting.
Today I pressed daffodil bulbs into the cool, moist soil. They were late in coming or I would have had them planted a month ago. How unlike summer flowers they are – homely dry bulbs that must go deep in the earth. There is no expectation of blooms anytime soon. No buds or half opened flowers to predict the colors they will show. They are like writing. I write because I must. Because I feel compelled to record the ideas in my head. I don’t know whether my words will fall like autumn leaves or bloom by spring. Half the fun is in the uncertainty!