Sometimes, Fall kicks open the front door of Wisconsin and announces itself boldly. “I’m here and, baby, I’m gorgeous.”
Other years, it sneaks through the back hallway and whispers quietly behind a half-filled dance card. “I’m here and I’m just going to rest on this bench a while and wait for you to notice me.”
The latter came this year and my friend Catherine and I spent a little time coaxing it out of its shell. We wandered river banks, scanned unseasonably sunny skies and enjoyed a trek through the woods.
We treaded gently on Fall’s tender paths, and tamped down any talk of previous years’ glory. We complimented golden leaves and watched birch trees stretch a little taller. We pointed out autumnal reflections in clear rivers, and saw red maple leaves blush.
Eventually, Fall stepped out, curtseyed low under a sweet, sinking sunset, and gave us a twirl.
We raised our lenses and applauded the show.
Poetic, and wonderful photos.