Willows

Last week of August, working in the morning sun, cutting back willows encroaching along the north pasture fence, near where momma bear and two cubs hang out, I can hear them rustling in the thickets as I work, a bit disturbed by my presence. Next week is September, I can feel it coming. I feel it in sunflowers fading, in sweet corn stalks drying, in butternut squash forming, in the Fall garden I planted yesterday, in fresh acorns I see in an oak tree, in native prairie grass seed heads and I feel it at the start of each day in the later dawn and at the end of each day as dusk falls earlier.  It is a comforting feeling to me, as summer is abating, I feel it in cooler morning air, I look forward to the coming changes, when summer slowly passes, as autumn slowly approaches with its golden leaves and frosted touches and all of nature rearranges.