In west central Michigan, there is a symphony of indicators of the season’s change. The sky shows a softer hue of blue, while the tell-tale nip of fall creeps up on you mostly in the mornings and as the sun is beginning to set. Corn stalks are drying down now. Goldenrod is coming to the end of its show. The air smells of the many local lakes, as well as the smoke of wood fires nw being kindled. And although it has been forty years since I experienced them, those Michigan autumns remain fresh on my mind.
In west central Michigan, there is a symphony of indicators of the season’s change. The sky shows a softer hue of blue, while the tell-tale nip of fall creeps up on you mostly in the mornings and as the sun is beginning to set. Corn stalks are drying down now. Goldenrod is coming to the end of its show. The air smells of the many local lakes, as well as the smoke of wood fires nw being kindled. And although it has been forty years since I experienced them, those Michigan autumns remain fresh on my mind.