There was a time

For the past week I have been showing Autumn scenes in Bend, Oregon. Somehow the above photo of a withered, fallen, giant sunflower is emblematic of the end of the season and the beginning of the next. Fall is a time to gather dried flowers and arrange them in a vase. Also, goals involving school or home projects are again taken in earnest. Even the crock pot is hauled out and last year's successful stew or soup recipe is retrieved from a folder or box for next week's menu.
On weekends in the cool grey air, where once verdant summer grass had been the domain of butterflies and is now the stage for Autumn soccer, a potpourri of parents watch progeny occasionally live up to someone's expectations. Fall is also a time when, inexplicably, the fortune of a town, city or state's football team can become the determinant of self-worth. The mutable October freshet strews loss and disappointment over the land like mouldering leaves and portends a long Winter or brings the warmth of joyous victory and a sense of well-being to those that care.
In this season, camera in hand, I wander the town like a detached weather vane, pointing at what I see and record; merely to enjoy my time, this time.