Haiku

Once green leaves browning

as the sun moves to the south

shortening the days.

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September? Are You Sure?

People keep telling me it is September.  I quite simply do not believe them.  How could it be September when we have not even had August yet?  I know for a fact that yesterday it was July.  If this actually was September, it would be raining or something.  Leaves would be falling.  Summer would have happened.

Oh wait.  Summer did happen.  It was HOT.  Then it was smoky.  And now you say it is September?  Oh the days are dwindling down!

Seriously though.  I simply cannot recall August.  I am not particularly bothered by this, but I do hope that next year, someone will tell me when we have August, so I will not overlook it again.  At my age, overlooking a month is a serious issue.

Right now, I will simply take your word for it.  But I won’t believe you really until it rains. Or does something else September-ish.  Also, a little something about August, if you please.

Birds of a Feather

I live in a city with posses of turkeys that wander up and down the streets.  They are quite fun to watch as they wander through the front yards and down the middle of streets, although some see them as nuisances.  One posse has been wandering along my street for a few years now (or at least a group of turkeys has shown up this year, and another posse last year–not necessarily the same one).  They are quiet mostly, picking their way slowly through the yards.  I tell them to be very careful, as Thanksgiving is not so very far away.  I don’t think they are listening, though.

Last week, I noticed a perfect V of geese flying south and I wondered if we were getting an early winter.  That would be a very welcome break from the heat of recent months. But then yesterday, there was another gaggle of geese flying north in another perfect V. Perhaps the smoke that has been lingering over us on and off throughout this hot and rainless summer has confused them.

Noticed also, perhaps related, that the hummingbirds that normally are here all summer and into the early fall have not been around lately to visit my feeders.  And the birdsong that I usually hear in the early mornings has not been heard for a while now.

This all makes me think of Rachel Carson’s book, Silent Spring, about a time when there are no more birds to sing to us.  Turkeys may be fun, but they don’t sing.