And Then It's Here

It comes like a 5:00am alarm clock. Dark green leaves of the growing season start to turn olive, trees give us the first sign. Cool mornings suddenly leave a layer of frost; for the first time in almost half a year steaming coffee warms the body. Almost overnight, green corn fields turn golden and its harvest season. The neatly stacked firewood piles bring a sense of security that seemed so far distant in the sweaty, insect infested woods of summer. Comfort food, this year's sauerkraut, with mashed yukon gold potatoes, and pork sausage fill the senses.... maybe a hint fresh apple pie for dessert.

Could she know too?  In her third year she seems to be settling down....some days....but not these days. Do her senses bring back memories from a year ago when in a similar style morning a flannel layer was needed before we hit the woods. The ground smelled of decaying aspen leaves and from under blackberry brush a grouse erupted. Everything seemed to come together and the grouse fell.  She remembers that....she lives for it...centuries of breeding have her wired for it.

Like the suddenness of the season at hand you remember, there are only 6 days left in the season. A season that has once again slipped by with other priorities but this last outing will not. The year's last quest of the creature that rivals the Good Lord's paintbrush of autumn colors...a native brook trout.

 It's here, it came quickly, get out and suck the marrow from every moment of it; as soon as it came it'll be gone.