There is mist across the valley this morning, morphing the view into
something less familiar and shortening my horizons. It is the first such mist
for many months and hints at the approaching summer’s end and a period of
transition. The recent rain has replenished the parched ground and the air
hangs heavy with moisture, as if the Earth itself has exhaled to release her
sweet breath.
Walking the short turf of the lawn wets my feet and leaves behind
footsteps that outline my passing, each a darker patch of moisture etched
within the carpet of silvery white dew. Should I walk the meadow I would return
with my trousers soaked, the fabric covered with grass seeds and the bodies of
small invertebrates, each held tightly to the cloth by a meniscus of dew.
The air feels deliciously cool but carries with it the first sweet
scents of autumn, the merest hint of woodland fungi that will undertake the
process of breaking down much of the season’s harvest. Two swifts pass overhead
on silent wings, feeding as they journey south; they provide an echo of the
noisy juveniles that were such a feature of July. It is a morning that feels
like summer’s end, a shifting of the seasons and a sign that, to use a phrase
from Ted Hughes, ‘the world’s still turning’. This transition can be a gradual
one, a mix of days hinting at a return to summer but then switching to suggest
that autumn is already here.
It is one of my favourite times of the year, with a strong sense that
much of the natural world is on the move. Migrant birds from more northerly
breeding grounds are already passing through on passage south. Many will
attract the interest of birdwatchers, perhaps myself included, but for now I am
content with my local ‘patch’ and the changes I can see within it as the
hedgerow fruits ripen, crickets chirp and house martins and swallows gather on
the wires. These cool mornings suggest renewal but of a different kind to that
encountered in the spring and my spirits soar as I experience the pull of
season’s end and look towards the approach of autumn.
No comments:
Post a Comment