color, fall, leaves

fall colors

The greens were subdued. Weathered by a summer’s worth of sun. Pockets of real color … gold … orange … rust … red … clustered in the branches above and gathered along the walkway. But the gentle yellows called quietly. Ahh … the soft, subtle yellows, practically sighed.

moon, night sky

strange times

Such strange, strange times.

It was cloudy for weeks on end, it seems, and I couldn’t remember the last time I saw stars in the sky. And the moon? I think I saw a pretty crescent around twilight a week or so back.

Thursday night, I shut down my computer and switched off the lights, and the patterns on my desk took me by surprise. The old familiar lines and squares angled across the wood. So bright it lit up the dark room. My response was something like, what’s that? oh, the moon. Then one of those feelings that come with a smile, like … oh, the moon.

My eyes followed the trail of light out the window and upwards to the almost-full moon high in the sky, shining bright behind the leaves at the top of the trees

It’s high up there, over 100 feet, and you wouldn’t think I could see the silhouette of individual leaves from so far. But I could see them, the ones at the top, the highest ones, reaching upward, and with the aid of bit of a breeze, swaying and dancing around in the night sky. For a minute or two, the bright beautiful almost-full moon was right there with them, surrounded, framed, almost decorated.

Me? Well, I should not be surprised, should I, to see moonlight coming through a window. It’s a rather regular event. My days are full. I’ve got projects, plenty to do, exercise, walks. Life. And there are weightier issues, for sure. But this sameness, day after day, after a while, it dulls some kind of sensors in us. Well, in me, anyhow. Some strange malaise of the brain.

I looked out the next night. I guess I hoped to see the moon again. It was cloudy and I couldn’t see the moon. But … I saw a single star out a side window. Yes!

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This is an old photo of mine from last year.

fireflies, lights, summer

the last bits of light

The little bright light was unmistakably the flash of a firefly. It was almost dark, and I was by the dogwood in the front when I saw it. At first, I thought how wonderful. And then I thought sadly, oh little guy, you’re way too late. This isn’t gonna work out for you.

I made my way to the back door, and whoah, another light flashed. And another. And seconds later another in the furthest part of the back yard, under the trees. At least four different bugs. After that I lost track because fireflies cover some distance between flashes. If I knew how, I would have said, hey, there’s a guy in the front looking for you.

It seems late for fireflies, but it’s been a strange year.

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That isn’t a dogwood in the picture, and those aren’t fireflies. It was a little too late to take pictures, but those last bits of light call to me. Still, the fireflies were for real. I’ve been wordy of late. The end of summer puts thoughts in my head. Thanks for patiently reading and taking the time to tell me what you think.