It starts with a single red leaf falling from the maple tree. And we know that Nature has sent her signal. With a slow blooming blaze of colour, autumn washes the trees from green to yellow to orange to copper to gone.
The waiting begins in earnest, and the sightings decline. The last little warbler disappears into the southern clouds, its call silenced by distance. Great flocks of northern Canada Geese stop by the beach each morning, to rest and regather their strength.
Tuxedoed Common Mergansers find no parties, and become heat seeking missiles.
A sudden symphony of white bursts from the field, and with dizzying swirls swoops down again, and lands three feet from where they last were. The Snow Buntings have arrived.
We know. We know what’s coming next.Wood piles are stacked, thermal boots and mittens and scarves and toques and down jackets are brought back to the closet by the door, waiting for the inevitable.
It’s a quiet time of goodbye, as Nature wraps up Autumn,
and begins preparing her icy blanket.