Autumn is Whispering

It seems that summer has only just arrived in Whitehorse, but Autumn is already whispering to us: “…here I come: in the newly dark night, in the sun warm on your back and the wind crisp in your face, in the last of the blooming roses, the sweetness of raspberries and the first turning of gold, I am coming.”

End of summer in my garden:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And here is Sammy, desperately trying to hatch the last of the summer strawberries before Jack Frost takes them:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What does the end of summer look like in your garden?

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