There was a cooling breeze this morning and, rather than venture out on my normal Sunday morning run, I grabbed my camera and headed into the woods behind our house. I avoid the woods in summer. The trails are overgrown and mosquitoes seem to have smalll drill bits with which to draw your blood. And they hunt in packs. Nonetheless, the breeze gave me hope I would find a bit of tranquility with blood-sucking creatures discouraged by the windy morning.
I was wrong.
Not about the tranquility.
It was quiet, peaceful. Only the knock-knock-knock of our neighborhood pileated woodpecker echoed in the forest, chorused by the occasional song of whatever birds were awakening at the moment. Unfortunately, if I stood still for more than a moment, the mosquitoes I find so disdainful began feasting upon me as if I were a tall glass of pink lemonade, refreshing them on a hot, humid day. Except I am not lemonade.
They were thirsty and relentless. I scurried back toward home, but not before catching my first glimpse of the months to come. Lying directly beneath me on the path toward home, two obvious signals I would not have to wait too very long before the first frost and fewer mosquitoes. The contrast of these bright, newly fallen leaves was as brilliant as a blinking yellow light in the middle of an evening’s drive. Cautioning me–slow down, enjoy the summer.
Fall is right around the corner.