Buried in Shade

We’re slipping into the last bare week, a time I call “false fall”. The colour of early leaves break out in a kind of imitation autumn. Pale yellows and oranges, reds now and then, shades suggesting nothing of the monochrome green waiting to rise. I can still get a glimpse through any tangle, but time is short, the haze of new life rising like a fog. These are days I love for their shifting, vibrant in a way that June and July aren’t quite. The hurry to steal sunlight is feverish for the forest floor. All the early grasses and flowers have done their best, and they’ll be buried in shade shortly. Dappled and scattered is all they’ll get from here on out. The sacrificial limbs of last winter lie broken and unset, and it’s my favourite contrast under the canopy to come.

May 10, 2026
Beaconsfield, Nova Scotia

Year 19, Day 6755 of my daily journal.