When Goldenrod makes her entrance Summer is surely put on notice. Add a clear, crisp morning in late August, woodland sunflowers, and a few stray leaves starting to show a tinge of orange and it seems Summer best hurry to finish her conversation before being thrust unceremoniously out the back door!
I haven’t said goodbye to her, yet. This is my last really carefree Friday for a while, so, let me visit with my friend, Summer, before she bids farewell.
Meandering about Harper’s Ferry I am engulfed in the transition between summer and fall…and lost in an oh, so blue, sky!
A kindred spirit, in form of a deer, stopped to bid me good morning.
A train barreled by pointing out there is no time to lose and I must keep pushing forward.
The Shenandoah, moving swiftly past, agreed with the train. “Make haste! Summer is packing up!”
Standing firm, between the north and south banks of the river, stood a cormorant, perched on a rock perusing his options. “No need to be bamboozled by that rackity clack train and this impatient river” he called out, “they are set in their path and cannot change course.”
I took the cormorant’s advice. I took the long way, the curvy way, the way I did not know. The un-set path.