It’s way too warm to be an Autumn morning coffee muses.
When eight o’clock in the morning brings a starting temperature of 78°, it just doesn’t feel like fall. When your glasses fog up when you step out the door, it doesn’t feel like fall. When your world is green in every direction, it doesn’t feel like fall.
I think what I’m trying to say is… it just doesn’t feel like fall. The sun is setting earlier and rising later, just like fall. The birds are migrating, just like fall. The goldenrod and the ragweed are in bloom, just like fall. But, all around me it still looks and feels like summer. And it’s not an Indian summer that shows up later in the year after cooler weather has moved in for a spell. It’s just a never-ending continuation of an over achieving summer.
The usual suspects, bird wise, are playing in the trees. Blue jays, a cardinal or two, a mockingbird, a hawk flew over screeching it’s hunting call, but I haven’t heard a hummingbird all day… say that last to the tune of Uncle Albert.
My cup of muses has run dry… Time for a refill.