The maple leaf stops them. Its veiny palm invites examination, as peach and pale green cross shades. Autumn does this to maple leaves; scorns their attempts to cling onto their tree of birth, strikes them down, flattens their flame. And then, somebody finds the leaf, finds charm in its crown-like edges, its slight resemblance to thorns.
It seems we have a friendly grasshopper, content to stretch out on our doorstep and chirp a greeting. Obviously, he doesn’t realise his size puts him in great danger of being stepped on! He’s so relaxed that my husband was able to take a very detailed close up of him.
If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you may have heard me mention my new family of three – the swallow chicks! Ok, so they’re not quite mine, but as their nest is situated just a few feet from my door I have adopted the ‘watchful aunty’ role and I think we’re beginning to bond!
I decided I had to post a poem in honour of All Ireland Poetry Day. The choice was easy as I’ve been looking back at Summer, feeling the familiar relief that it’s over and Autumn, in all its fiery brilliance is gaining prominence.