The first blush of red came on the sumac beside the driveway. Just a few leaves and the pear-shaped sumac gall. The next came on the tips of leaves on the tree next to it. So far, the maples at home are summer green, though I have seen a splash of orange on trees along the road. The ash are a rich green, though I have watched a few pale, dry leaves float down onto the lawn.

Red has appeared on the tomato plants by the side of the house. This year, the chipmunks have only stolen a couple, so I am able to ripen them on the vine. I pick a few every day, popping a cherry tomato or two into my mouth just to check how ripe they are. There is nothing quite like a warm, vine-ripened tomato.

Beet leaves have been touched with red all summer, the way they are supposed to. And the roots are filling out. I’ve had two servings of the deep red vegetables, with more coming soon. I worried when the beets were slow to sprout this spring, but they turned out to be one of my successful crops this year.

Other pots are bright green. The peppers have formed up well, and the basil plants are strong and fragrant. The second planting of snow peas has the fresh green of spring--we do not see a lot of spring green in late August.

Down by the shore, there are two patches of goldenrod. The flowers on one are a brilliant yellow. The others have yet to turn colour. (While parts of my garden are carefully cultivated, I have made space for native plants as well. There are places where I let the wild things decide what grows. Some things I try to control; some I let be.)

As I look at the garden, as I walk in the forest, I can tell that September is just around the corner. In other ways, I feel disconnected from what September usually brings.

Radio talk shows are talking about the beginning of the school year. There was a great piece on how to budget for back-to-school shopping in a time of high inflation. I remember back to school shopping. My kids really loved that process. And I’m guessing my son who works in retail is well aware that this is the second biggest shopping season of the year.

But I haven’t been shopping. I haven’t been in a shop except a grocery store and a couple trips to a hardware store. I don’t need new clothes as I seem to have a closet full of stuff. Some of the shirts and pants are a bit faded, but they are fine for around home and walking on the road. I don’t need to dress up to go visiting, to attend meetings.

Being retired has pulled me out of the routine of September start ups. In other years, I’d be working with leaders to get children’s programming up and running. I’d be checking with other groups to see what their plans were. I’d be thinking about my own plans for fall activities. The calendar would be filling up. But not this year. I don’t have responsibility for any of that.

The climate engagement group I am part of did take the summer off, and those bi-weekly meetings will start up again. But the writers group just kept meeting. And all summer, medical and dental appointments kept cropping up. There were lots of family visits as well. I had to keep an eye on the calendar all summer.

But now, our calendar is rather empty. Family are in September start up mode, settling back into busy routines. September isn’t bringing big changes here.

Still, although the weather has continued hot and humid, more like July than late August, light levels are declining. I have to turn lights on to take the dog out for his early morning pee. Colour will spread on the trees, and leaves will fall. I will be raking them into the gardens, piling them for composting. The school bus will go by every morning. Weekend cottagers will be up less so that the traffic on our road will slow down. The signs of September will be there for even this retired woman to see. 

Cathy Hird lives on the traditional territory of the Saugeen Ojibway Nation