First Blush

"It sounds like it's raining," I mumbled to myself as I pulled the blanket under my chin and savored Sunday morning. The weather forecast had predicted sun, but rain somehow seemed right, even if it was Labor Day weekend. If it were raining, that is; I couldn't tell for sure from there in my room, with the window blocked out so that I can sleep while the sun shines.

It was raining, a steady downpour hissing on the leaves. I can't say exactly why it seemed right, except perhaps that it gave me a sense of being sheltered, snug in my warm dry home at the same time that it hinted of the immanent change of season.

The sun has now returned. Looking outside I see a hint of red at the tips of the dogwood leaves. Autumn has indeed begun. It'll happen quickly now. I recently had three loads that went north of Lansing, MI over the last two weeks. On the first trip there was just a touch of color; by the last there was quite a bit. Fall begins up north first and moves south while spring goes the opposite direction.

Sure enough, I wrote that over coffee yesterday morning. This morning, a paid holiday for me, looking out the same window I see the red becoming stronger, like a blush moving up the leaves from the tip, and a cluster of leaves already scarlet that were still mostly green yesterday. Everything else is still green, with just a sprinkling of yellow in the poplars and the sycamore in the front yard.