the coming autumn

it's only august, yet the air has taken on a different stillness...a somber expectation...the swallowtails dart throughout bloom's leftovers seeking sustenance before their migratory marathon...my garden irises - once as midnight and silky as an exquisite secret, now withered, their heads bob in the occasional breeze...squirrels nervously fill their larders, cheeks full, freshly picked apples carried like prizes in their teeth, chancing the path in front of a fluffy dog in order to hide their bounty...school buses a yellow-orange unwelcome sign of the closing curtain of summer too quickly....the sun no longer tarries across the sky and shadows come much too soon...pumpkins replace peonies at the farm stand and crisp ears of butter sweet corn are joined by their showier cousins of orange and red and green...soon the fragrance of pansies will be overshadowed by woodsmoke...the hum and buzz of lawn mowers gone -replaced by leaf blowers and then the inevitable snowblower. the days each hold their own passings...their own beginnings...each brings a fresh perspective and mood...scent and remembrance. soon will come autumn. L.