Waiting for Winter

Dan is calling from the orchard “Hurry” so I do, out on the deck alarmed and expecting some catastrophe only to see him pointing skyward. I look into the clear cloudless blue and see nothing but I here the cackling and realize they must be very high, they sound very far away. He keeps pointing “there, there” and I keep searching when in an instant they suddenly light up the sky the sun sparkling on there white feathers. Snow geese, hundreds, two waves of them heading directly for the pass south to the Pacific Flyway. “That means snow” says Dan. We watch them until there out of sight leaving behind a smidgen of melancholy.
At the cabin a lonely birch holds on to its leaves surrounded by bare trees waiting for winter. Except for the juicy red of the highbush cranberry still waiting to be picked the jewel tones

 of summer are gone from the landscape replaced with fall’s shades of brown mocha colored grasses, cinnamon in the fiddle heads, deep cocoa in the mushrooms.
 Out for a carefree hike to the blueberries I keep telling myself the bears are in the high country looking for a den but this warmish sunny fall we are having gives me pause. The swans are still in their pond and if they haven’t left yet perhaps the bears, too, are out and about. Along the way more signs of winter, frost sparkling on the dwarf dogwood deep in the woods, some lingering ice on wet spots here and there.The blueberries are few and far between probably already harvested by bears.
Mornings now come before the sun which means time again for cozy reading by lantern light. I tackle “The Rouge” by Joe McGinnis , find it fascinating and candidly honest, finish it in one sitting, and take on Guns, Germs and Steel. Right away I see the reason for its Pulitzer and NYT Best Seller status. The history of the world in an engaging narrative style all centered on Jared Diamonds major theme: Whites came to dominate the world not because of a superiority of race but an accident of geography and the luck of natural resources.
This is the time to take a breather, in between the garden and the snow every thing slowed to a comfortable pace. Winter-in-waiting.