We really are getting stuck into autumn now. Not cold enough for a dramatic leaf-fall, so the trees seem to be stuck in a terminal sulk, their leaves not changing colour much at all before they give up the ghost and fall quietly to the ground. Now and then an eddy of the wind drops down from the hill tops to give them a bit of a stir but loses interest, it seems, when it finds them still mostly green and supple, with nary a rustle to be raised among them.
Where’s the fun for a playful breeze when the leaves are silent?
A dozy hedgehog poddles around the garden, hunting for grubs and bugs among the leaf-litter, bad tempered and resentful that he’s having to wait so long for a good frost before snuggling up, tucking in his nose, and sleeping through the winter. I know where he sleeps but he’s quite safe. I shall not tell anyone and I shall not disturb him.
Noisy, ill-humoured squirrels chatter in the trees and shrubs, similarly resentful that they must be out searching for nuts and berries when they’d rather be tucked up, dreaming of sunshine.
It feels as though the whole world is waiting for the lights to go down and for the stage to fall frostily silent before small creatures may steal quietly away to over-winter in the wings.
~~+~~
in the pearly evening sky
a lone duck flies overhead
wait for me! wait for me!
~~+~~
