I CAN HEAR THEM. The whisperers.
They rustle through the cornfields, fingertips brushing brittle leaves.
They swish through the tall prairie grasses, hips not just swaying, but sashaying, in the bending breeze.
Their voices drone like a billion buzzing busy bees.
In the woods, I strain to hear them as my flip flops crunch leaves strewn upon the path. I know they are there, hiding among the trees.
When two bikers pedal past me, the whisperers think I cannot hear them whispering. But I can.
At 4:28 in the morning, when the owl’s hoot awakens me from sleep, I cannot hear the whisperers. But I feel their chilling presence slide through the open bedroom window, brushing my bare shoulders with icy fingers.
They cloak themselves in glorious golden robes…
hide among the grasses…
tempt me with wine.
Their distractions and disguises don’t fool me. I hear them whispering of winter in these early days of autumn.
FYI: All of these photos, except the vineyard and the cornfield, were taken at the River Bend Nature Center in Faribault on Monday, September 3. The other two were shot a day earlier east of Waterville.
© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling