Passages

Flowers are becoming few and far between here now. Asters of one color or another are still fairly reliably seen. That’s about it. This was, I think, an exceptional year for wild blooms. The spring rains and moderate summer temperatures were a good recipe for nearly everything, producing blooms both numerous and large.

For much of the warm season, it seemed I couldn’t turn around without finding something new. I might stumble through thistles and emerge to find a patch of wild geraniums, as thick as if planted in a garden. Wild raspberry bloomed large and purple in the deep of the forest. Sometimes I wondered if I was the only one to see a bloom as it grew happily away from the eyes of others. I shall miss that, the surprise of finding something beautiful where I least expected it.

Autumn, of course, has its own rewards, as does the winter to come. But for just a moment, I will lament the passing of the summer blooms and hope I shall see them again when next they fill the forest with color.