Summer lingers on the rays of sun that caress our faces as we pull our boats from the water, close up camps and shut down pools.
Fall slips into Maine, quiet at first, as we mourn our loss. No more walking bare-footed on the beach. No more short-sleeved shirts. Chilly nights lead to chilly mornings.
First up north in the County, then working its way southward toward the coast, fall reveals its splendor of color through the leaves on the trees around the state of Maine. The buses roll in, brilliant colors and hues fill the viewfinders of many a tourist from away.
Like the camera-toting masses that appear to ooh and ahh the display, the foliage show is short-lived. Both leaves and leaf-peepers are here now. Tomorrow, or next week, they’ll both fade away to some distant (or nearby) place.
The autumn winds swirl. The leaves fall and the tourists retreat, each sharing an unspoken promise.
Same time next year.