My Dad and I were discussing Fall and comparing our notes on the "signs" of the coming season. For us, the indication of a new season has less to with turning the page of the calendar.
Here is The List that proves that summer is slowly inching back behind our treed hills, while Fall waits expectantly in the long, evening shadows:
Our corn, which only feels like yesterday was up to my knees has shot over my head (and then some) as is evident in the green background for today's outfit. That is our cow corn behind me, tall as can be and the cobs are showing signs that they are ready to be harvested. When Corn Time, as I call it, begins you can be guaranteed Fall is upon us.
Our grass fields have slowed down exponentially but promise one final cut before the first frost. August is always a dry month.
The mornings are definitely chilly now and I can no longer march over to the barn in a t-shirt knowing that after lifting some milk buckets and forking hay I'll be warmed up. Now I need a sweater and as I fasten the buttons at my neck a grey film of fog has collect around the edge of the valley.
Canada geese are not only cutting across the sky in their organized and garrulous V's but nesting in our grass fields overnight until continuing their journey the next day.
There are many more subtle signs of a change in season but between making this list and checking it twice I read an email where the sender mentioned the C-word.
Now hold on a minute, that's four whole months away. I can't think about Christmas yet. By then the corn will be harvested, our heifers home from pasture, sparkling frost on the ground...
Modelling the earrings. No me, not the cat. Although they would look good together...
Photography skills with thanks to Mom.