color

I took a walk into the camp this morning. Because the wind is blowing, it was a noisy walk, with the leaves on the trees rustling, the leaves on the ground skittering.

As I passed the gate, a maple by the pond spoke up in a blast of orange. When I got to the dock, I could see that the water is much clearer now, than it was in the summer, the algae hovering at the edges. I stood looking at the rocks on the bottom, as the horses wandered over in search of company. We had a brief conversation, after which I started home.

The sun is shining, a blessing after a couple of gloomy days. I felt as though I was drinking it in through my skin, face raised, eyes closed. The white asters have faded, but the lavender ones are going full tilt against the shale banks. The forsythia leaves are beginning to turn a deep purple.

All the tints of autumn, in anticipation of the dimming of color in winter.