September, a month when it is easy to look back to summer and ahead to winter. Also a great time to simply be here and now, slowing down, enjoying this transition and, of course, seeing the countless changes that are happening in the natural world.
Life is moving with the sun, so obvious with the migrating birds even if I miss seeing the millions flying South in the darkness. Also, impossibly, the migration over similar distances of many dragonfly species and, of course, the monarchs.
Some plants are sprouting or flowering as others are turning brown and tucking in for a winter. Red osier is always a delight to see, along with the many varieties of asters. Bees of all varieties are busy readying for a time without nectar or other food.
The Jewelweed plants, taller than I, are right now shooting seeds all over in preparation for feeding the hummingbirds (and my soul) next summer.
So it goes. Tomorrow will come soon enough. Yesterday is no longer, except for memories and photographs. Today the dawn was late to come, morning fog in the valleys, and then the intensity of the warm sun welcomed, and the clear skies of the cool evenings.
Perhaps there will be a delightful surprise along the way—maybe even a pair of whales diving into the here and now as dusk fades over the Green Mountains.