I read that flowers are the earth’s laughter.  Flowers cause me to smile, such as when I attend to a joke or a good pun.

I visited the zinnia garden to view the blossoms for the last time.  Today the temperature is to be in the 70s and then the drop-off comes into the 40s.  It is almost mid October.  The first frost cannot be far behind.  The growing season is receding as Autumn settles in.  Yesterday a friend mentioned the premiere festival of Autumn, Thanksgiving.  He called it “turkey day.”

These photo’s of flowers were taken several days ago at dusk.  The blossoms range from dime sized to that of a quarter.  Each is unique, the only-one-of-it’s-kind in all of this world of zinnia flowers, and indeed in all of time.

As are you my friend.

Let’s all laugh together.

And finally a poem about Autumn.

Nothing Is Too Small Not To Be Wondered About

The cricket doesn’t wonder
     if there’s a heaven
or, if there is, if there’s room for him.

It’s fall. Romance is over. Still, he sings.
If we can, he enters a house
     through the tiniest crack under the door.
Then the house grows colder.

He sings slower and slower.
     Then, nothing.

This must mean something, I don’t know what.
     But certainly it doesn’t mean
he hasn’t been an excellent cricket
     all his life.

Mary Oliver, from her collection Felicity