Among the green of summer, spots of color portend the changing of the seasons. Some trees turn yellow, others crimson, and a few orange. Leaves drift down to sprinkle lawns that remain summer green, thick and lush, untouched by frost's fingers. Dipping temperatures have flirted with the freezing mark, only to retreat to warmer degrees.
This morning late buds on the rose bush open in a misty rain. Their rose red tops the oranges of the marigolds below. I stood in the damp air marveling at the depth of color and the beauty of the petals unfurling, thankful that Nature allows this last blooming before sending winter's chill.
The forest green ivy garlanding over the stump on our lawn has ripened to pinks and purples that catch the eye of passers-by. From my porch I gaze at the foliage admiring the hues, wondering if I can capture them in a quilting design. I retreat from the damp to my kitchen and the smell of coffee, certain my effort in fabric and thread will be a feeble representation of the glory outside.