Here in New York, a hike upwards from the Delaware River in the hamlet of Yulan, so named by the Chinese laborers who lived in the area during logging days, the beginning of fall is beautiful. One tree which we can see from our deck is already putting on new leaves. The ferns,so abundant in this area, are still green. Even they have a beauty about their browns when the green fades. Ferns in these parts are the perennials that border property, dress up bare spots, and proudly stand along the rustic road leading to our sheds.
Temperatures plunged (I write this because as a Southerner we don't get temps like this so early) to 40's several times last week and we declared "It's time to go home" and then the days following the temps were upper 50's nights, so we said, "Let's stay awhile longer." Those cold nights must have ushered in the right medicine for the leaves to change.
As time nears for us to return to the South, we suddenly feel we've not made enough contacts with friends, haven't taken enough out-of-town trips, haven't enjoyed the outdoors enough. It takes us weeks to relax together before wanting to connect with others...then suddenly time has run out.
I have new projects in mind, now that I feel invigorated,so I don't face fall and winter reading. I've read enough books here to last for the remainder of the year. I need action of a different nautre. Ahh, life in these mountains do relax us and gives us incentive to examine our blessings more frequently.