Seasons

In the absence of a scratch-and-sniff application on my laptop, wherever you are, whatever you're doing right now, please step outside and take a deep breath. Hopefully you're in an area where you are able to detect the distinct smell of a changing season.

Sam's at the lake so it's just Mom and I here tonight. I fixed a simple dinner of a salmon patty, creamed green beans, potato and a salad. After we ate, I stepped outside to water a few of my flowers on the deck. Sensing an opportunity for an evening stroll, Gus dashed out the doggie door as soon as I grabbed the bucket.

Hopefully optimistic, he headed down the driveway and kept looking back to see if I was following him. This old dog (and I AM talking about Gus here) sleeps 23 1/2 hours of the day so I figured a little exercise would do us both some good.

I picked 5 more tomatoes from Blackie the tomato plant and headed for the mailbox. As I walked, I became increasingly aware of the subtle changes around me. Bright red sumac peeked from under the heavy brush. A gentle breeze shook loose a few acorns that would momentarily be spirited away by an industrious squirrel.

It feels like summer--but the smells in the air are conflicted. It's a transitional aroma--a blend of the fertile, rich smell of summer and the sweet, ripe aroma of fall.

As different varieties of grapes, coffee and spices are blended to create rich, new flavors, so it is with the seasons.