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  • Dale Bowman

Jim Morrison, hedge apple & The End: Ramble with the Lady

Falls walks in dressed drab.

I will leave others to the fantasy world of fall's beauty, they can rhapsodize about that falsehood until they believe it themselves.

I see the truth. Especially this fall, maybe because of the wet summer followed by the dry early fall, comes in with faint yellows and dull browns, the colors of the end.

Where is Jim Morrison when you need him?

Oh, I found something on YouTube that works just fine.

Some leaves even drop green, well, dull dark green. Drab. Even from our maple in the back yard.

As typical of this time of the year, virtually nothing moving or flying around as Lady, our family's mutt, and I rambled off.

Low in the distance, Canada geese honked coming off harvested fields east of the south old clay pit. That was about it for natural (or I guess unnatural) excitement around the town pond.

I did find a lone hedge apple on the east side of the south pit while listening to the geese.

God bless Lady, but she decided to present a photographic moment.

On the edge of town, gandy dancers from three states, at least from what I could tell by looking at license plates, had a dozen vehicles parked in the grit area by the grain elevators. An Indiana. Several from Missouri (long way to come). Obviously a bunch from Illinois.

No doves flew. Maybe because of the stiff north wind.

Downtown, the bank thermometer read 51 degrees.

Fall.

As we passed the alley behind the bus barn, two blue jays squawked back and forth farther west down the alley.

Back home, the lone gray squirrel of the morning hopped around the neighbor's yard and caught Lady's eye.

Fall. Even the squirrels honker down in the north wind.

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