Where, oh where, has September gone?  In a mad swirl of falling leaves and temperatures, it seems the days have been born aloft upon the wind, tumbling quickly out of sight.  Yesterday, we journeyed to the creek, to taste the last bit of Indian Summer and sample Fall in her burgeoning glory…and glorious it was!    Tiptoeing  creek side, wading through fields of goldenrod and reveling in the beauty of a nearly perfect Sabbath…

Here’s an ode to September…we must mark her before she slips away into October’s Bright Blue Weather!


The goldenrod is yellow,
The corn is turning brown,
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down;

The gentian’s bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun;
In dusty pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun;

The sedges flaunt their harvest
In every meadow nook,
And asters by the brookside
Make asters in the brook;

From dewy lanes at morning
The grapes’ sweet odors rise;
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butterflies–

By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer’s best of weather
And autumn’s best of cheer.

~Helen Hunt Jackson~