Seemingly out of nowhere, spider lilies bloom in Munger Place. Yesterday the bulbs were hidden underneath matted ground cover and thirsty summer grass. Suddenly they make an early morning appearance, randomly scattered, tall and sincere on leafless stems, blooming the instant late summer sunlight sends its subtle message. Surprise lilies are a sure sign that autumn is on the way.

Had I known the time was at hand, I would have watched them grow through the night.

Mother Nature’s nonchalant, often unrecognized message is bittersweet. The end of carefree summer days, lake trips, lightning bugs.

First day of kindergarten. First day of college. Change.

Hatch chile peppers and sweet corn pack the produce aisles. Fresh and fragrant. Watermelons and raspberries are priced to move, tired.

Soon the trees will be on fire. Orange, Red, Yellow. Hiding summer. Lighting the way to winter.

I dream of The Great Pumpkin.