Wordless Wednesday

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This time of year there’s a certain way that the light falls upon the water. But you don’t have to live near water to see it. Sunrise is later; sunset is earlier. Even with things still undeniably lush and green (or as green as they can be without much rain) one season is ending and another is beginning.


These creatures–the “cross” spiders–also indicate the coming of fall where I live. I never see them in June. But by late August they are plump and sassy. They remain until a hard freeze kills them off. Then eggs hatch a new crop next spring.

As much as I remark that I would hate to live in a place without seasons, every year, the coming of fall seems to sadden me a little more.  But if fall never came, spring wouldn’t come either. That’s what I need to try to remember.

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