Friday Ramble - Oh, Those Cavorting Creepers

Days are warmish and sunny, and nights are downright cool. Some mornings, the grass in the park is a bit crunchy underfoot when we go out, but there hasn't been a killing frost in the village. In nearby rural areas, frost has already put an end to the growing season, and with October on the horizon, our turn is not far off. 

At the height of summer, we were on the trail into the woods a little after five in the morning, but the sun is not up until after seven these days, so we are later starting out. On chilly mornings, Beau wears his natty blue tartan jacket with its fleecy liner, and he is happy to do it.

I wear my green canvas jacket with a cotton turtleneck sweater and cardigan underneath. Lacking much of a lining, the garment does not convey warmth, but its deep hood and waxed surface shut out the wind and keep me dry in sudden showers. The garment has several deep pockets for items like glasses, keys, facial tissues, cell phone and poo bags, so taking a receptacle along for such things is not necessary. Women's jackets seldom have enough pockets or deep enough pockets, so my old friend is a man's jacket found on a bargain rack at Marshalls years ago. 

Wonder of wonders, here it is at last, the splendid performance put on every year by a cluster of Virginia creepers a few blocks from home. Most creepers in the area turn red and burgundy in late September, but this specimen does its own thing and dazzles the eyes with leaves in blazing orange and vivid teal. The hues on display are absolutely sumptuous, and every autumn, they gladden our hearts.

Nudged into action by sunny days and cooler nights, village trees have gotten the word and are throwing themselves joyously into what we (Beau and I) like to call hallelujah mode. Local maples cavort in flaming scarlet, birches and poplars wear buttery gold, and the beech sisters in the park delight our eyes in shimmering copper and bronze, all together a splendid seasonal coinage. On walks, we stop to look at the riches all around us, and it is a wonder we ever make it home again.