Autumn
It’s hard to watch summer slip away, yet for a number of days autumn clings to a spell of warm weather and a sun that still warms. I love sitting in the sun— on the patio of my local Starbucks— drinking an iced coffee, and reading. Time stops for me as I look into my book bag and choose what to read. Should I while away my time with Sharan Newman’s medieval mystery The Wandering Arm or Sherwin Nuland’s biography of Maimonides or perhaps Gilead by Marilyn Robinson?
The fifteen-day weather report promises a spell of sunny days. I do know that accuracy so far ahead is dicey, but who cares. The possibilities of stemming the inevitable downslide into colder temperatures are held at bay.
Why not enjoy the colours? Oranges and yellows remind me of canyon country. This year we didn’t get out to Utah’s canyon country and I missed the rush of colour. I love hiking in Bryce Canyon where I feel as if I am descending into the
orange tones. I am subsumed by the shades of red.
Perhaps I will allow myself to settle into autumn colours.
The fifteen-day weather report promises a spell of sunny days. I do know that accuracy so far ahead is dicey, but who cares. The possibilities of stemming the inevitable downslide into colder temperatures are held at bay.
Why not enjoy the colours? Oranges and yellows remind me of canyon country. This year we didn’t get out to Utah’s canyon country and I missed the rush of colour. I love hiking in Bryce Canyon where I feel as if I am descending into the
orange tones. I am subsumed by the shades of red.
Perhaps I will allow myself to settle into autumn colours.
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