Late Summer Morning

The morning mist hangs low over the river as southbound train rumbles through the valley. I can hear the low bellow of a cow in a distant pasture answered by the melancholy call of a Mourning Dove. The Piliated Woodpecker has begun his day’s work in the woods nearby and the Jay squawks and scolds unseen in the trees by the pond.
For a few more weeks I will be entertained by the Hummingbirds’ antics as they compete for possession of the feeders on the porch. The air this morning is fresh and cool, complements of yesterday’s storms. I know the heat and humidity will return but the Earth has begun her breathing in and Fall is steadily approaching.