iRelle

The birch in our front yard is trying it’s hardest to fulfil the despicable role of Harbinger of Doom. Well, Harbinger of Autumn, anyway. I’ve been pretending for the last week that the yellowing leaves are due to drought, but today the wind picked up and suddenly our front lawn is scattered with little golden leaves , nestled quite comfortably in the short, dry grass of summer. In the words of five-year-olds around the world: IT’S NOT FAIR! I want summer to stay, to drag on into a long, hot Indian Summer with gorgeous sunsets and hazy, mountain-filled distances.

I don’t hate everything about autumn. It is, after all, the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, which loosely translates to something like ‘great photos and pumpkin pie’.  Crunchy apples still teeth-numbingly cold from the frost in the night, plucked off the tree in the early morning sunlight… Snuggling into soft, warm scarves and kicking through leaves in knee-high boots… settling down in front of the fire on cooler nights, complete with cat, book and cocoa… Okay, so truthfully once the season gets here I’ll probably love it just as much as I love summer. Right now, I’m hoping my dread and desperate despising will keep it at bay for as long as possible.

That means you need to harden up and stop dropping leaves, birch!

Also, check out the full-sized image by clicking on it. Lots of nice texture and a few raindrops, to boot!

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