It’s not typical for cold to come so soon and stay.
Nor typical, so much wet for so long.
Surely Summer would have rained itself out by now.
Yet, through Autumn, threatening into Winter, wet.
Still nice to see familiar pastel Winter shades.
Even if sooner than expected.
Even if wetter than usual.
Coming up the last hill out of East Branch Valley on Lyons Street, my eyes drew to the top of a bare tree across from the pond.
I came upon this individual, or some of his family a few weeks ago, when taking the long way home, a shortcut on Stone Bridge road, about a mile upstream from this perch.
An early appointment the day of the storm had me awake closer to daybreak than usual.
As I walked across the living room, I noticed that the leaves of the houseplant, that “found it’s window” several years ago were trembling.
Even though they calmed to stillness when I stopped walking, I kept looking at the leaves.
I perceived that I saw them start to move again, growing, turning, yearning for pale dawn light.
Movement in the yard drew my eyes through the window, beyond the plant.
There, a sentinel doe draws attention from her young buck as they breakfast. His rack raw and white, velvet recently scraped, now ready for rut, ready for winter.
Though the leaves are somewhat subdued this year, the sky has been spectacular.
A rare autumn this, nearly entirely from green to brown. This week the golds of birch and tamarack though sparse, are welcome punctuation to otherwise dull vegetation.