The yard was starting to look washed out and dry. The flower gardens were looking bare. Some of the tree leaves had started to change to orange and reds. Yet, upon a closer inspection I found that there are a still flowers blooming.
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
To the Virgins, to make much of Time - Robert Herrick. 1591–1674