October 22nd

Who was it that called this time of year Indian Summer anyways? Was it William Wilfred Campbell or someone else? Campbell’s poem, Indian Summer, sure described it well in 12 short lines.

Along the line of smoky hills

The crimson forest stands

And all the day the blue jay calls…

We memorized this poem in grade school, and what a pleasure it was to learn. Even without a book, I can still recite it mostly by heart. Campbell wrote the poem in 1889, according to the  online source at Representative Poetry Online.

I like to think he went walking in the woods or some open area with trees and vegetation, taking note of the changes in nature. Perhaps it was even warm when he went walking, in shirt sleeves on a day that felt almost like summer.  A walk I like to take, with leaves crunching underfoot, and picking up the occasional perfect leaf.

Yesterday was cool and breezy, today somewhat damp. All over the neighbourhood I see trees bearing yellow, rust-coloured and red leaves. Sumachs are nearly as red as a child’s crayon, the one most in demand at the colouring table of young children. Some trees have shed most of their leaves, while our neighbour’s tree vies for brightness with the sunshine with its brilliant  yellow leaves, especially against a gray sky.  If we can go by other years, this tree will still have leaves at Hallowe’en but will dump them soon afterwards. 

Birds gather and prepare for their long trip south. Every fall they leave and every spring they return, their inner clocks programmed by a creator, just as the leaves fall, only for the trees to grow new buds for new leaves next year. For now, I watch the changing season and enjoy the colour.
For the rest of Campbell’s poem, read it  here and enjoy the colour and sights of the season.