“Autumn came, with wind and gold.” ~ Henry David Thoreau, Walden
Ahhh! The change! The weather changed! We have had weeks of hot summer temperatures, and little rain to boot. Wondering if autumn is ever coming?! Early morning of August 30 I thought I felt the air change. But if it did it was short lived and back to full blazing summer until now. Today is officially the autumn equinox, and it feels like it! Autumn clothing like jeans and a 3/4-length shirt worn. And the flavors of autumn are on the menu. I am celebrating by preparing a stuffed squash dinner for this evening. My daughter gave me a big-sized homegrown spaghetti squash last month, but it has been too hot to prepare an oven dish. If all goes well with this new recipe, it will be added to my What a Dish Recipes page tomorrow. Dean doesn’t mind me experimenting with our dinner! Shhh! Besides it is another recipe for another book I have in the making.
“Flowers are but colored leaves, fruits but ripe ones. The edible part of most fruits is, as the physiologist says, ‘the parenchyma or fleshy tissue of the leaf,’ of which they are formed.” ~ Henry David Thoreau, Autumnal Tints
Hot tea graced my morning after my swim at the Y pool and a writing lesson with an online literary group. Participants were encouraged to pick a few of our favorite authors to dwell on. Henry David Thoreau is one of mine. Words for poems seem to be on my mind these days. A silly poem using plays on words came out yesterday. Another one is festering. While in my atelier I gaze out the front window and see the ruby-throated hummingbirds are still feeding at our feeders. We could have them with us for another 3 weeks depending on the temperatures of the autumn air. This mild 60’s weather is so perfect for outdoor work and play. Much colder our tiny, feathered friends will move further south. Every week for months Dean has been faithful to make the sugar water, then cleaning and refilling the feeders for our entertaining friends. “To everything there is a season,” the book of Ecclesiastes tells us. The first frost comes soon after the hummingbirds migrate south.
“Perchance amid these groves might arise at last a new school of philosophy or poetry. It lasts all through September.” ~ Henry David Thoreau, Autumnal Tints
