smearing

I was sitting in the front yard, with my coffee and a cigarette, watching the hummingbird moth sipping at the abelia and the hummingbird at the basil, when I saw a half dozen leaves floating down. The seasons are definitely not set in stone. The cicadas are calling; the temperature is rising toward a probable 90 degrees. But the leaves are beginning to fall. Much as we’d like to think there are clear lines between things, smearing occurs. In October, before the first hard frost, the impatients will be lusciously pink, the nasturiums vividly red and orange. Many of the trees will have lost their leaves, but the summer will be remembered by the annuals.