Fanfare and pomp absent, autumn’s arrival is generally slow in coming. The calendar’s progression through the winter, spring, and summer months often takes more time than anticipated. Without grandiose, the season for harvest, autumn, finally arrives. Words, as great as they were written by Frost and Keats, hardly describe just how beautiful it is this time of year.
A kaleidoscope of nature’s tapestry is in full effect. The illustrious palette astutely displayed in the spring and summer months begins transitioning. The multitude of flower blossoms, born in spring and summer, wilt and start their dormancy-some a slow death. Bountiful arbor leafs of green convert to hues of red, yellow, brown, gold, gray, and orange. The shine, once brilliantly illuminated by summer blades of grass, starts losing its’ luster. Scanning a mountain landscape will reveal the contrast between the evergreens and the hardwoods. Nowhere is the change in coloration more evident than that of the Quaking Aspen. Quaking Aspen leafs signal the arrival of autumn; even when the temperature on an outdoor thermometer fails to do so.
A crispness in the autumn air, to most, is a welcome respite to the hot, muggy days of summer. Daylight dwindles for its’ length of stay. The arched pathway of our golden sun shortens in the southern sky. Mercury in the outdoor thermometer eventually starts a slow descent. Jack Frost awakens from his summer slumber. Brisk mornings tingle the nostrils of both man and beast. The needle of every outdoors person’s inner barometer is directly in line with “Anticipation” trending toward “Excitement”.
Autumn’s presence does not usually overstay its’ welcome. Most years, autumns’ short duration is due to over-lingering summers or eager-to-start winters. Even though brief as it may be, autumn, is a resplendent time of year. The change of seasons is never more exquisite.
Homage to autumn is deserving.

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