The Republican journal., 1916-10-19
Signs of Fall in Montana.
"SEVN ATEFISIX.'
IThe Montana Farmer, Sept. 29th

THE Montana Farmer, Sept. 29th
The ears have been bent downward for
many days. Below them the stalk is
losing its green and t. king on the yellow
russell of husking time and here and there
yellow leaf, shows among the green tops
of the field. The meadows are short and
sere, or in the high valleys, heavy with
second crop clover or alfalfa. Grain
stubbles grow green with fall weeds.
Black patches of fall blowing and sum-
mer falloW break the landscape into
checkered squares and rectangles. The
cottonwoods already are parting from
their leaves and the bright yellow of the
coming fall CLEANS in the branches OF
scattered trees. The blackblrds gather
into punches and f1ocks and chatter Mostly
as sewing circle at luncheon. Already
the first flight of ducks has hit the
marshes and in the highlands the tender
plants have grown black under the harsh
touch of the early frosts. Fields are
dotted with shocks of grain, the dust
from threshers is seen i'll every direction,
brown hay stacks mark the meadows;
everywhere there are signs of the sum
mers labor and accomplishment. Here
and there one hears the click of belated
mower laying low the last cutting of hay,
with glimpses of ruddy ripeness. When
the sun goes down there comes Fremont
tory gusts of chilly air which promise
cooler weather and whisper of coming
storm and snow and heated furnaces.
The horizon is misty these autumn days
| and the sky blue and infinitely tender, as
though loath to take up the chill azure of
winter The bright colors of spring and
summer have faded into the ripe, rich
| tints of autumn, warm, comfortable
colors in which nature bedecks herself at
this, the fruition time of the year.
Shorter days come. The heretofore
lingering twilight comes brisk. The
candles twinkling in the easements of
the woods go out suddenly. Night, with
it's Thousand voices and thousand eyes
comes quickly. Katydids and harvest
flies weaving their tapestry OF sound In
the loom of the woods accent the promise
of the coming season of boar frost and
the owl breaks through the tapestry with
lament for the season that IS gone.
Fancy takes the sounds of September
midnight and twists them into senu-
mental purpose valuable to folk who
would live partly in illusion and partly IN
fact. The falling leaves of the cotton
woods are the sands of summer IN
the hour glass of the year. Each
as it twists and tumbies from its lofty
perch and nestles to the ground, Is evil
dence that another grain has run. Soon
the glass will be turned up and the grain
will be flakes of snow.
There are signs of fall The signs are
for another of those long, mild Montana
falls rich with the ripeness of things and
strong as old wine with frulty soundness
and the tang OF full ripening. When the
winds blow cool and the sun shines strong
and the days are bright and warm and the
nights medicinal with the strength of
north and west breezes. A long,
motherly autumn in whose lap Montana
rests content and satisfied. Weather
that no Japan current can breed. skies
that Italy could not equal, valleys of con-
tented rest peopled with happiness.
Montana in a Montana fall! Montana
and her harvest and her climate and her
people!
"Lo, uncover the land
Which hid for old time in the west
As a sculptor uncovers his marbles
When he has wrought his best"