Every year, autumn takes me by surprise.  All summer I’ve been battling weeds in my garden, trying to keep up with watering and reveling in the blooms that arrive with spectacles of color, even in my simple shade garden.  

Then suddenly the season is changing. It’s time to clip back the hydrangea and spirea bushes. The leaves on my hostas are bright yellow; the ferns turn almost black.

Autumn is especially glorious this year. We’ve had blue skies and a long season of magnificent colors-trees dressed in scarlet or gold; trees like peaches; trees with burnt-orange bouquets.  

As I walk with a friend, we interrupt our conversation to point, “Look at that tree!” “Did you see that one!”  …

My little dog loves the leaves on the ground. He sniffs and sniffs. He’s an optimist; there must be something wonderful underneath all these piles of crinkly leaves.

Here in Minnesota, we know what’s coming-a long, cold, cold winter.  But for now, autumn is glorious.