At the Edge of the Woods

The goldenrod is having its season.

It’s everywhere now—along the fringe of the woods, beside the roadside fence lines, up against barns, wherever it can find a little sun to bask in during these late-summer days.

Here at the house, the clearing drops away into thick woods, and the goldenrod has gathered along that boundary. I particularly love seeing those bright yellow fireworks against the darkness of the trees. There is something about that contrast—the wild brightness at the edge of the deep woods—that feels like late summer to me.

I keep hiking up behind the house to photograph it, trying to catch how it feels. The pictures never quite do.

So I bring some inside instead.

And there are cats in the field, goldenrod blooming beside Blaze’s barn, and more goldenrod than I could ever cut for a vase.

For now, I’m happy to just watch it have its season.