Wordless Wednesday

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This time of year there’s a certain way that the light falls upon the water. But you don’t have to live near water to see it. Sunrise is later; sunset is earlier. Even with things still undeniably lush and green (or as green as they can be without much rain) one season is ending and another is beginning.

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These creatures–the “cross” spiders–also indicate the coming of fall where I live. I never see them in June. But by late August they are plump and sassy. They remain until a hard freeze kills them off. Then eggs hatch a new crop next spring.

As much as I remark that I would hate to live in a place without seasons, every year, the coming of fall seems to sadden me a little more.  But if fall never came, spring wouldn’t come either. That’s what I need to try to remember.

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