Return of the clove of seasons

Yep, it's that time again.  Spring and summer seamlessly meld into one another, as do fall and winter.  But the transitions from the extremes, from winter to spring and from summer to fall, tend to be more in fits and starts.  This summer was not anywhere near as bad as the last one; we did have a few stretches of extremely hot days, but they either were short stretches or were accompanied by low humidity and/or a nice breeze.  Mama and I could take our lunch in the graveyard without risking death by mosquito or by heatstroke.  But just the same, the transition from summer to fall has begun.  We still need the A/C by day, the cicadas still keen in the trees, and the errant mosquito buzzes in my ear, but nights are cooler and a few rogue trees have already begun to shed their leaves.  Last Saturday Mama and I even saw a monarch butterfly; those don't usually start hanging around here until late September.  So yeah, it's the clove of seasons again.  I've referred to this twice in the past, once in September of 2014 and once in March of 2020.

As y'all may remember, there is a field behind the library where I work.  Last year it was left fallow, and the year before that there was cotton in that field.  This year the crop of choice is soybeans, and ever-curious Beryl June wanted to get a closer look.  She held her branch a bit too close to the camera, but y'all get what she's getting at.

This is what soybeans look like during the clove of seasons.  There's still a lot of green in the foliage, but some of the leaves are beginning to darken, as are the bean pods themselves.

I love soybeans!  They're not as visually striking when ripe as cotton or milo, but they have their own beauty.  When they're ready to be picked they turn a sandy brown, not terribly unlike Idalia Gale's hair.

While traipsing back to the library I caught this yellow flower, a member of the "damned yellow composite" category.

Damned yellow composite might be a pain in the posterior for botanists, but I love it.  They're all the same...but they're just different enuff that you're never looking at the same thing twice.  This flower was growing all by its lonesome, by the way.  Contrary to what the Brave Little Toaster might tell you, flowers don't die of loneliness...as far as I know.

Oh yes, the sticker burrs are also growing rank in the grass.  I had to be very careful where I stepped and where I set Beryl June.  I hate those danged things!  Luckily I was able to avoid 'em completely.  There have been times where I spent half an hour pulling those satanic little thorns out of my jeans and shoes.  But all is well today!  Now to wait for the rain.  Like the veronal clove of seasons, the autumnal clove is usually accompanied by storms.  Don't wait up!

Love,
RagingMoon1987