When the leaves are spattered in crimson and crushed pumpkin and flutter to the pale, brown, graveled road highlighted by sharp spears of sunlight, you know that autumn is creeping toward you on the farm. The warm, mellow summer days will be shattered by a wind whipped thunderstorm and replaced with a cool dampness that slips into your clothes if you idle too long.
Musical honks punctuate the air as V-shaped flocks of geese circle round and round, strengthening their feathered young for the long flight south. Withe the demise of sweltering heat and clouds of flies, the horses perk up, throwing the hooves into the air as they thunder across the lime green pastures. The sheep hop past when let out in the morning, their lanolin greased wool suddenly an asset rather than a sweaty liability.
Tomato plants to yellow, revealing glowing cherry red fruit while pumpkins loll on their withering vines. Fields are stripped naked of dried soybeans and cornstalks cut, their kennels poured into the silos for winter feed. The musky smell of damp leaves mingles with the smell of overturned dark soil.
Autumn has truly arrived. You just hope that it will stubbornly linger and hold the threat of snowflakes and ice deep into December.