Uh-oh

Even as the sun bore down on us this past weekend, 

the dried stalks of the echinacea and the black eyes of stalks 

of black-eyed susans tell us the end of summer is near.

Tired and worn, these flowers accompany others in

 a bitter sweet parade: as the seasons change, 

they take with them memories

of their bright colors and aromas.

In and Out

The sun and clouds are alternating their presence in our days, 

in and out, as we work our way closer to spring.

These changes often happen within hours --

the morning is cloud-covered, bringing snow showers

that coat the ground with a thin glaze of white.

The breeze pushes out the overcast, dragging the bright

sun just behind. Everything is bathed in the sun's light,

then, more clouds and a bit more snow.

It's a bit like the instructions on a shampoo bottle:

"Wash. Rinse. Repeat." cleansing away the winter 

doldrums as preparation for the renewal 

and promise of spring.

And while I was huddled on my couch, I listened to a couple
musicians I hadn't heard much about.

Chrysanthemummification

Another sign that summer has past is the flower displays

in front of my neighborhood grocery ...

rows and rows of pots of chrysanthemums.

Generally, they seem to be offered in three or four colors:

yellow, orange, red and a sort of brown.

It's definitely time for the chrysanthemummification of

the neighborhood gardens with little wads of color that will

survive the cold and snow.

I didn't know until I checked the spelling of the word, but chrysanthemums were originally cultivated by the Chinese as a herb for cooking. 

I wonder if they were used by cooks like they are used in the local yards, spread about like pepper used by people who don't know of other seasonings.