10.13.15  The wind event did, indeed, strip the branches on the trees next to the water and now the lawn is covered in pine needles and golden leaves.  This Aspen tree covers the window of the dormitory room upstairs and shimmers at the front of the house.  Its leaves are the last to go.  We never planned for a tree here when we did our landscaping 13 years ago, but Aspens we did plant close to the water–struggling every year to grow–obviously sent this healthy shoot to live next to our porch.  Most of the plants and shrubs we brought in, weeded for years, and dutifully watered have disappeared, replaced by the native vegetation, with their beautiful names:  Mountain Maple, Wild Rose, Snowberry, Mallow Ninebark and Ocean Spray.  There’s no turning back from Nature.

Now by Barbara Crooker

What can l say, now that summer’s gone, with the weight of its heat,
its thick blanket of humidity, the cacophony of zinnias, marigolds, salvia?
Now the sky is clear blue and cloudless, that sure one-note
that can only mean October. You’re gone. The leaves turn gold
in the calendar’s rotisserie, giving up their green, and the burning bushes
have ignited, struck their book of matches. It’s enough to make the heart break,
isn’t it? We keep going down the one road, there’s no turning back.