Almost autumn

9/11 – a date that is a tragic reminder of an horrendous day in history.

The sky is blue and clear, the wind is nippy and, when I went for a walk this morning, hints of autumn are everywhere.

Cattails abound in every damp ditch, plump and getting ready to burst sometime soon.

In the cool air, the frogs have gone deep under the pond and a wee bird was skittering around on a fallen tree branch, pecking away for a bug snack or two. At home, the hummingbirds have vanished and I have been hearing flocks of ducks and geese quacking and honking as they prepare for their journey south.

Shriveled leaves look like husks of snakes seeking the last vestiges of warm sunshine.

And you don’t have to look far to see the signs of leaves beginning to don their fall colours.

A few are already showing off some brilliance in red or orange.

Migrating birds, or those fattening up for the season to follow, have been systematically gobbling any berries they can find, leaving morsels for another time.

And some have just given up the ghost – fluttering down to shrivel up on the ground. When enough of them coat the paths, the sound of someone walking along will be accompanied by the crackle of shattering remnants of summer past.

Summer’s last days are waning. We are lucky here in my small town to have a place to walk among the trees, away from the racket of traffic and industry as the world goes on about its business while some of us take a deep breath and just listen.

It really is almost autumn.