Fall mornings often start misty. These cool, damp mornings smell so fresh. I’m not the only one who enjoys the cool, moist air. The clover along the garden path soaks in the fresh water drops. The mist soothes the drying chive flower. And earthworms enjoy the dewy earth.
The afternoon sun evaporates the morning mist. Fall is in the air. It’s the last of the summer flowers. High above the canopy, the cottonwoods are turning golden. Growing up, I never considered cottonwoods to be among the tallest trees in the forest. I first became acquainted with cottonwoods in Kansas. There, due to the lack of rain, they are short, gnarled trees. Here, where there is no shortage of rain, they shoot up straight, spreading majestic branches high above most of the other trees. Odd how the same things grow so differently in different places.
