Temp: 53F DP 50
The wild asters are coming into bloom which means the end of summer is drawing near. So many people love autumn; I am not one of them. To me fall is dying, spark, death, dark. If you’ve ever witnessed someone dying a slow death you know what I mean by spark–those days when they seem perfectly fine. Fall’s spark is its colors, and then everything withers and dies and plunges us into the dark. Honey even mentioned how the early sunsets make him feel it is much later than is.
Grandson is coming to visit this weekend. He will bring the joy I need.