Fallen Leaves - Who Can Say Where They're Blowing?

Please fall, I beg. Don't leave us.

We had our first snow and sleet today, in the Binghamton area of upstate New York.

Fall, I will cling to your leg and scream if you leave me, just like I did with summer.  How can I be jilted twice in two months by two seasons?


How can I not, with the beauty you have showered me with?  The honeynut squashes?  The apples? The laughing pears?  The beautiful sunsets?

It's coming soon. The polar vortex that made last February an absolute misery is on its way.

Have you not forgotten what you showed me earlier this week?

Japanese maple, Front Street, Binghamton, NY

Or this? Fall, don't you remember?

You are breaking my heart.

On the banks of the Chenango River, trees are finally turning.

Taken early morning 11-7-14

At the abandoned BAE building in Westover, the Bradford Pears have barely started to turn.

You can't do this.  You can't snow on my parade. Just a week ago, things looked like this, in downtown Binghamton.

And even tonight, in the dark 5:30 front yard, I found a nasturtium, covered by leaves, and spared by frost.  I know you will get this plant tonight, and I accept it.

I have no choice.  I must accept the howling winds to come. I must accept the freezing temperatures that will envelop my area as the sun turns its back on us.  That is the way of upstate New York.

I will need to accept the change of seasons, and the long winter to follow. More than this, I can't expect.  And so, I will rerun a fall song I put on my blog last year.

"I could feel at the time/there was no way of knowing/Fallen leaves in the night/Who can say where they're blowing?"

I will try to expect the best.