It's here, the cusp of October.
When I was in sixth grade, the teacher made us learn six pieces to recite in front of the class.
I still remember bits of "October's Bright Blue Weather" by Helen Hunt Jackson.
I think all of us in the D.C. area agree that October is just about the best month of the year. The sun is still warm but the breezes and nights are cool. We get some rain (we hope, we're short about half an inch right now according to the meteorologists). Lots of things are still green, even though our leaves usually turn this month.
There are even some flowers. The little white wild asters, a last few golden cosmos in my garden, some Rose of Sharon. People who planted specially for autumn have chrysanthemums out.
The wrens are still calling, but they have left off that rasp they use in August. I hear the robin cluck once in a while. Chickadees are setting their territorial limits. I've been hearing Black-crested titmice whistling (it sounds like somebody calling a dog) and some tufted titmice ("peter peter peter"). I think our young mockingbird is practicing softly to himself (herself?). The catbird still mews once in a while, although he will soon flit. When it gets nippy the male cardinal calls. Jays are starting to get noisy. The crows are leaving for a city with more lights and fewer owls. The sparrows are waiting for the kernels on the privet hedge to ripen. I've seen a few strings of geese migrating.
I'm hanging on to summer as hard as I can because I hate winter so much. It's nice to have the October breather.
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