Almost overnight the prairie has donned its winter mantle. Gone is the lush green overgrowth of summer. Sunflowers are a thing of the past. Their stalks have withered, and with the first snow they will be broken down to the ground.
A clumsy paraphrase of a famous line: Ou sont les fleurs de printemps?
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3 comments:
I have always enjoyed the day when you first sense that fall has arrived. It seems to be a combination of smells and sensory intangibles. Somehow the animals and us know. I had that moment a little sooner than normal back in late August while walking the dogs.
I know what you mean. I've always thought it was a certain cast of light. I got my first inkling just after the middle of August.
"I've always thought it was a certain cast of light."
I know the feeling. The color and texture of the sunlight seems to change in some subtle way with the seasons.
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