Stepping outside this morning, inhaling the crisp morning air, feeling the heavy dew on the grass….it took me back to fall mornings at the bluegrass festival in Winfield.
I am a regular visitor to the Walnut Valley Festival in mid-September, including camping out there several times. The sounds of musicians picking tunes from their guitar strings, campfires crackling and people laughing and singing are interwoven with my memories of autumn.
The smell of those wood fires is indelibly entwined with my images of fall.
But it struck me that I was reminiscing about autumn because of how a morning in mid-August felt…an August morning in southern Kansas, not Novia Scotia.
It’s been a compelling few weeks here in the heartland.