In the beginning there is a thick mist.
Somewhere the dawn is breaking but on the lane this morning it happens slowly. A tractor engine is idling. He’s warming the engine while he empties the dregs of a pot of tea down on top of two slices of brown bread and marmalade.
The warm September light filters through, dappled spotlights along the way. By evening time the freezer will be crammed with blackberries, plums and an assortment of currants and apples. Sweetness to be added to morning oatmeal and yoghurt on a winter’s day.
For now it’s time to harvest all the good memories of summer as we get ready for the big hibernation. And walking back I repeat again these favourite lines….
I wish I understood the beauty
in leaves falling.
To whom are we beautiful
as we go?