what passes for fall

For those of us living in the south, and by that I mean south Texas, our cues that the wheel is turning are a little different than those experienced by our more northerly neighbors. It's more about the shortening days and what's blooming than about cold weather and turning leaves and it comes later in the season. I think up north it's already winter.

We did have a fair cold front move through several days ago, dipping down in the 30s one night, the 40s for a couple of nights. Whether it was enough to trigger color in the few trees we have that will color given enough cold nights before they finally just lose faith or patience and fall off, remains to be seen.

The tallows are sporting a few clusters of red and orange. The native persimmon in Frank's yard has turned an orangey yellow. The gingko, given the right circumstances, the right nighttime temperature will turn yellow seemingly overnight and then drop all their leaves in one fell swoop. Mine are still green though they have been dropping a few leaves the last week or so. The little maples have already lost most of their foliage due to the drought.

We, here, cannot look to the changing colors of the leaves to inform us that fall is upon us. We must look to the harvested fields, though that too happened early due to the drought. When the pampas grass and the rain trees bloom we know that cooler weather is coming.

When the confederate rose blooms we know it is fall.

When the fall asters open their tiny blooms we know that the season has changed because though short days are upon us and despite the cold nights last week, it is warm and sunny, a balmy breeze plays a tune on the wind chimes.

I sit here, doors open, looking out over the little back yard to the dormant plowed field beyond, bare foot.

It is Indian Summer.