Prairie Song

The next ten days string themselves together like sapphire beads on silk thread. No rain, clear skies, temps in the big 70’s-low 80’s range. Nights promise to be cooler, but at this time, it’s expected. Tomorrow officially brings in fall.  A touch of rain would be nice, but under the cloud of knowledge of what comes next we accept it with open arms.

Yesterday Oakley and I celebrated the day with a walk at a prairie preserve. I don’t know how many acres it is, but we can get a decent half-hour or so on the paths mowed through the waving high grasses. At this time of year, some of them are above my head. The long leggy stems support cluster of seeds that resemble the tips of fox tails. There was enough of a breeze to shake and sway them a bit, making them rattle.

The breeze in the grasses that reach my knees joined in with a whoosh. Down at their level, the small white daisies, tiny lavender flowers, and another plan with bright round sun-colored blossoms contributed the loudness of their colors to the mix.

Oakley sniffed the plants that had mounded themselves into huts for the small animals who spend their days scurrying away from hawks and the occasional eagle. Despite vigorous thrusts of his nose near the roots, he came up empty pawed.

Several depressions in the grass indicated where deer had settled in for the night.   The time draws near for the deer to find suitable mates. For a few more weeks, though, they stay hidden in the thickets surrounding the preserve, protecting this year’s fawns until the time comes to start on next year’s crop.

A flock of geese cut across the sky. They were quiet save for a couple of honks here and there. The diminishing sunlight has shown them that the seasons are changing, and the announcement of fall rode in quietly on their wings.

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