In the Wee, Small Hours of the Morning

In the Wee, Small Hours of the Morning

 

In the early morning darkness, a dove calls. It’s a homey sound. The robins are quiet, maybe busy with their nests and feeding babies. Soon, the summer birds will fly South while the winter birds gather around the feeders.

School is about to start for another year of learning and growing, a year or making friends and new experiences. There’s a different feeling in the air, come August. Even without looking at the calendar, I would feel it from the coolness of early morning and the way the days are growing a bit shorter, the nights longer.

We’ve been blessed with several small rains throughout the summer. I’ve had to water outside plants less this year. Some farmers are planting fall gardens. And several of us are looking forward to gathering those pumpkins that have been growing all summer and are a bright harbinger of fall. Harvest time is coming.

At the ending of summer, I think about harvest. I’m no farmer–I haven’t even planted a vegetable garden, but with the ending of summer, I reap a harvest of memories of a past season. As I go from day to day, I hope I’m planting memories for tomorrow that I’ll enjoy harvesting, when the year changes and another season rolls around.

Manos Mysteries

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