It Says “Fall” To Me

In the part of the world where I live, the seasons don’t always start and end according to the calendar.  Summer starts before Memorial Day and  lasts well past Labor Day. So how do we really know what season it is?

Here are some of the things that tell me Fall is arriving:

The cultivated Asters bloom.  They’re the end of my perennials.

That daily text I get from the radio station usually includes the word “rain”,

we’ll have the occasional “one-dog-night”,

 
 

and my Beasts take steps to insure their winter food supply.

(And start arranging their bedding just so.)

I get the urge to buy (and wear) soft, fuzzy things …

… and fuzzy things show up in my yard.


Scattered whispy and puffy clouds are replaced by massive flat-bottomed ones.

(Yes, I DO see a cat guarding its food dish in those clouds!)


 
 
 
 
 
 

We have the traditional changes in the foliage, but the light across the landscape also changes. (Maybe because of those flat-bottomed clouds?)  Distant buildings glow.

Summer plants succumb to frost and the mums are available to the stray bees

… surely Fall is arriving.

 
 
 

Time to pull out the trash can and cook some turkey!

(Bet you didn’t see that one coming!)