October Photo Challenge - Landscape

the neighbor's cornfield

corn harvest is a sure sign of fall

Everybody seems to have a favorite season. One season, one flavor, one smell that trumps the rest. I don't, but I can tell you the season that I do not like: the Season Without a Name, that time between late summer and early fall when summer dies.   Summer's passing is not a sudden accidental death; it’s a slow moving disease-caused death. One morning I enjoy an early morning run, stop by the garden and pick enough peppers, tomatoes, and potatoes for the day and gather the eggs on the way back to the house. That night I can stay up late-for-me because dark is a long time in coming and there is no time clock the next morning. The frogs croak when I go to bed and the birds chirp as I wake up. It’s nature’s symphony – roosters, frogs, birds, rhythmic breathing in the morning air. And then so very subtly there is a change. It’s slow at first: a few vines in the garden wilt, the trees are dusty and need a rain bath in the worst way, then a night or two later fewer frogs are croaking by the canal and the sun sets earlier. After a trip to town the diagnosis is confirmed: aisles of school supplies. They’re like surgical instruments cutting into summer. The potato chips and hamburger buns are no longer on the front aisle, either. Summer is being shelved. Mobility lessens as everyone makes plans around upcoming school schedules and routines. The children go away.

It’s a death I tell you. A slow painful death. The death of freedom and sunshine and lemonade.

But after the final cut of summer is really made – the county fair is past, school is in session, the first killer frost has come - and there is no denying that fall has taken over, the world rejuvenates. It's crisp. It's red. It's fresh. It's gold. To be sure, fall has its own concert – the geese honk overhead as they fly south, the rains patter and wash the dust away, the combines hum, and the beat of the harvesters as they dig the onions and potatoes make the whole outdoors smell like supper is on the stove. The foods are dense and rich: pumpkin muffins, apple pie, homemade french fries, caramel apples. It's a proper wake for the passing of the Season Without a Name.

What's your favorite season's smell and flavor?