Starting in March, the weather in these parts has been about two weeks ahead of schedule. Nobody minded the jump on spring or summer, but in August this eager beaver weather pattern became disconcerting. Whoever heard of the corn firing in August? For those of you unfamiliar with the term, rest assured that “fired corn” will not add to our nation’s unemployment rate. It means the corn is no longer green and growing, but starting to turn brown, from the bottom up. When the corn “fires,” harvest is not far behind.
And whoever heard of the soybean fields brown and dry before the middle of September? But that’s what greeted me on my morning walk today. An entire soybean field soft and tawny, the wind rustling the brown, dead leaves and rattling the beans inside their hard, fuzzy pods.
Though the weather was perfect – bright sunshine in a blue sky, the temperature cool but not chilly, the breeze soft, the air fresh – I grew increasingly uneasy as I passed by the rows of beans. Too early, I kept thinking. Too early. And if fall is early, what about winter? Will it be early, too? Are we in for a bad winter again? I don’t like winter. I hate winter. Please not another long winter. Please.
I was almost past the field when a splash of purple caught my eye. At the edge of the field, a green vine resplendent with purple blossoms, twined its way up a beanstalk. The purple blossoms fluttered in the breeze. Their faces raised toward the sun, white centers glowing in the light, they clung tenaciously to life.
I stopped and looked at them, then walked on until the wind rustled and whispered. They won’t be here long. So I pulled out my camera, retraced my steps and went back to capture their sweet, smiling faces.
Winter is coming, it’s true. It could be early. It could be hard. It could be ugly. But today, the wind reminds me, there is beauty to enjoy.
