Seasons change. In their own good time and at their own pace.
Summer to fall, everyone sees that coming.
Other changes are slower but no less certain.
This is a house in our neighborhood. Nice people lived there. The wife died a few years back. After that the husband lived there alone. He spent a lot of time puttering in his extensive gardens. He was always willing to chat when we walked by. I suppose his world had gotten quieter..... Recently he went into assisted living, so there was an Estate Sale. I picked up a whole bunch of nails for the Homesteaders and some camo fabric that will come in handy for deer hunting.
Most of the flower beds were hostas, and the old gentleman was justifiably proud of them. He had many interesting varieties, each with its own name tag.
Change of seasons. Their pace we can't always know. But sometimes we get hints and omens. Here's the annual Wooly Bear caterpillar prediction of winter.
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