The bean fields are brilliant this morning,
their gold screaming across the autumn landscape.
Down the road a fresh green fuzz springs up,
shouts back from the hillside
where hay was cut and baled a few weeks since.

This scene seems a note out of time.
Palettes of spring and fall compete
in a symphony of color gone wild,
the result of uncharacteristic soaking rains
this August and September.

The countryside vibrates with such intensity
I can hear it trumpeting the call
to gather combines and threshers for harvest.