Seems like only a few days ago that the hibiscus still bloomed and mums resembled gold and burgundy bloom-dotted upside-down bushel baskets. Now we’re in the grip of unseasonable cold here in northeast Illinois. Most of the leaves have fallen–when I walk my dog, Gaby, along the nearby bike trail, I kick through a layer of maple leaves, bright yellow Norway mixed with a few vermilion sugar.
Most days have been cloudy, rendering the lake a milky murk.
But some mornings have been clear, the sunrises deceptively warm and inviting.
Tiny asters hug the ground, refusing to admit defeat.
And dead foliage forms urban art.
I am going to miss the warmth, the flowers. The ability to check the mail without needing to suit up first. But there’s beauty to be found in the fading.