Pale cotton white
Pale cotton white
Mockingbirds, blue jays
Too hot and dry
The evolution of Fall
continues to stall
The weekend is upon us–and the first day of October.
During the eighties and nineties our family took October vacations. To do the usual stuff; gaze at fall colors; last excursions to the beach; enjoy cooler weather before winter doldrums set in.
Halloween is nearly here, Thanksgiving will be next. This is the season of all things flavored with pumpkin spice. Those who are so inclined should be in ecstasy. I’m not changing for anybody. I still like coffee flavored coffee.
What’s worse than pumpkin spice flavored coffee? Christmas merchandising in September.
Nature’s humidity blanket got kicked off sometime last night. Coolest morning temps since last spring.
Max, the Wonder Dog, agreed and went on our long walk this morning. He made up for lost time by refreshing scent markings at every turn. It was nice, not to be drenched in perspiration, for a change.
What do you remember about your first car? Was it a hand-me-down old clunker or beater brought back from the dead? Did you give it a nickname? Perhaps Green Hornet, Silver Streak, Old Blue, or the Batmobile?
Only on television did older brothers hand down their classic muscle cars. Latest rendition on “Bluebloods”–Jamie inherited his late brother’s classic, big-block, Chevelle Super Sport; sacrificed in the name of episodic wretched excess.
My first car was a hulking, full-size Ford, Custom four-door sedan. Nothing sexy or dramatic about it–just good dependable, point A to point B transportation. Wonder of wonders, it had power steering and air conditioning. That was luxurious in those days.
The three-speed stick shift, “three on the tree,” had overdrive to go with it. A single dashboard speaker blasted the latest top 40 hits from the AM radio. Only bonafide car nuts, like myself, will appreciate the irony of Plymouth hubcaps on a Ford.
Gardens at Biltmore mansion in autumn.
A country lane
In late autumn
Is still green
A good day
To be alive
–Image, Craig Roberts–
Before the birds
The sun still
Finally, cooler nights
Days still warm
Mother Nature’s tease?
Fell, to the sound
Of falling leaves
A fall festival
Of brilliant colors
Crisp, cool mornings
The bluest of skies
Hills and valleys
Blankets of frost
The scary house
On haunted hill
–Picture by Avery Cotton WKRG–
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