October Scapes

They stretch out before you as a horizon beyond the windshield.

Tones of the autumnal palate: browns, topes, burnt orange and yellow;

Something like the understated wardrobe of a man in his senior years –

dependable, functional, trustworthy, not too flashy.

Occasionally there is the brilliance of the overachiever: bright orange or red;

Standing in in exuberance so as to be noticed, like a plaid shirt amidst a choir of kaki.

These are the scapes of October – harvest and field scapes, forest and lawn scapes,

Announcing change of weather and season.

Transitions like this come gradually, yet with determination.

Things will not stay as they were. Change is coming, foreshadowed in nature,

Announced in visuals available to be noticed, non-deterred should they not be.

A busy world risks missing them with noses pressed to schedules and minds cluttered.

Still the scapes are there. Steady. Quiet. Present. Muted; announcing and proclaiming.

Bearing witness to Creator, an incomparable artist; they develop over time.

Those who pass, if aware, track their progress as days yield to night and day again.

More color, enhanced by sunshine; less foliage, progressed by wind and rain.

Until . . . . until the scape has evolved into a next season, a next chapter, the

beginnings of which are found in the end of what had come before.