Copper and Sage

I have to really keep my eye on the clock, the daylight, and the weather in order to sneak in walks these days. The walking hours are fleeting.

And so are the last tokens of a summer that seems as though it existed ages and ages ago.

A few daisies, Queen Anne's lace, and clover continue to linger, but the trees definitely reflect the late fall calendar. Many have lost their leaves by now, although the hazelnut and hawthorne are just now turning. (I found it curious that three hawthorne trees in a row are each currently in different stages: One is still green, another yellow, while the third has lost most of its leaves.)

A little while ago I discovered a holly bush tucked away from the path. It was bursting with berries, leading me to assume that the tree I found several weeks ago on the trail (which is still berry free) must be the "male." Or still a child. A child bush.

(Among the birds of prey I see -- without fail -- along the pond route. The powerful and majestic hawk.)

The final stretch of the path welcomed me this afternoon with the warmest hues of copper and sage. I've been drawn to these colors as I decorate our living room, so I felt right at home as I swept past the shrubs which, I've learned, are called Hardhack.

A rather unfortunate appellation, but the soothing fall coloring does make up for it. As Shakespeare would no doubt say, "A hardhack by any other name . . . would still look great in the fall."