And now, September...

Image by Candiberger (Click image for larger version)

Here and there we will, in New England, begin to see the colors come... the green leaves dying to reveal a palate of nature's fall hues...

Something about painted trees, roadside harvest stands and the season's change quiets my soul and leads me inside, or perhaps outside... like The Spy in Robert Francis' poem...

Chet Baker plays September Song at the top of the sidebar...

-ConcordPastor

The Spy

To leave his empty house yet not to leave it
But make himself a shadow at a window-
Who is this prowler private in the moonlight?

Then at another window and another
His face against the glass and peering in-
What does he think he sees or wants to see?

Soft as milkweed floss the September night
White as milkweed the untroubled moon
Whose face, though far, is also at the window.

Two faces, but the prowler peers in deeper
Spying upon the empty chair, spying
Upon the man who is and is not there.

- by Robert Francis in The Face Against the Glass