A gentle honking comes from the watchers as the male neck stretches to its height. The watchers are not worried yet, just a warning as I pass by. The Canada geese line the damp fields grazing in the multitude of bugs, grubs and other strange foods.
The corn dried and cut, the field sprouts some type of grass and the geese are in heaven.
As I come nearer, they move up the field away from me. As they waddle in unison, the white patch on the back of their tail feathers swing back and forth. I am not cause for too much alarm.
They do not fly…content to see me walk farther and farther down the road.
The cows stop grazing and watch me. I find this abnormal, for they never seem curious.
On the other hand, if the horses were in the upper field, they would all lift their heads and look. They are always curious.
The bees nuzzle sluggishly.
The chicory dies, but still brilliant blue in color.
Leaves flutter slowly to the ground, in all shapes and colors. Damp and dragged down by gravity, they swirl their last dance for me.
No leaf waves today, the morning is still damp with fog.
We have not see frost yet, not even close. There are few crisp and crunching leaves, and color slowly changes to not quite so brilliant.
This is the way of it this autumn.