In fact, they have been getting ready for the past week now.
The wasps on the goldenrods are stocking up for the winter.
The honey bees on the white wildflowers are doing the same.
The pipevine swallowtail is in such a hurry to meet all its deadlines, that it flits right past me in the field.
It won't stay in one spot long, but it will pause long enough for a clear view.
An American Lady butterfly, a little worn in the wings, enjoys the goldenrod flowers.
Them a Common Buckeye and the American Lady Butterfly socialize together on the swaying goldenrods.
A fuzzy little caterpillar makes its way on the ground among the fallen leaves.
And then there is the dogwood all decked out with faux berries, an unmistakable sign of fall.
The dogwood tries to dupe us into thinking its bright red drupes are luscious fruit, while the dogs frolic under its branches.
The tiniest butterflies, the eastern tailed-blue and the pearl crescents, hold social balls on the gravel road.
There are still so many flowers blooming out today, that I decided to gather a bouquet and present it to Bow in a vase. Bow was interested.
He began taking out the flowers.
I thought he was getting all excited about the flowers, but actually it was the vase that he wanted.
"Hey, what's in that vase?" Bow seemed to be wondering. "Nothing, after you took all the flowers out!" I wanted to say. "It's just an empty vase now." But we didn't actually say any of that. We just acted it out.
Once he had made sure that the vase was really empty, Bow handed it back to me.
I think that's sort of how it is when we expect something special to happen on the first day of fall. It's just a date. It's a day of the year. It's an empty possibility, until you fill it with something. It's like any other empty vessel.