Indiana Farm Revisited

Indiana Farm Revisited

Oil on canvas, 6x12

sold

If I listen hard enough, I hear autumn in these hot late-summer breezes. It's a whisper, but a sure one, beckoning, pointing, promising.

I see it in the tips of trees, and here and there, a red leaf fallen on the summer-green lawn.

I smell it in the dryness of the dogwoods and the browning grass beside the highways.

I feel autumn in the twinge of chill in the early-morning air, in the damp line of fog hanging over a day-warmed stream, in the length of the shadows in these too-early afternoons.

So it has happened again. In a blink, summer has turned its back, and fall has headed in to take its place, reminding me - as if I needed it - that time is passing fast.