Falling along the River (the season, not the verb)

I like to take pictures from this point on the bridge every time I walk by here so I have kind of a flip book of the seasons changing. Lately I’ve been monitoring the bloom-progress of these crazy red flowers in neat rows along the right bank. Incense was drifting over on the breeze from the cemetery along the river and I was enjoying the cool weather and setting up some silly pictures of myself on The Scoop when an old man walked by and offered to take them for me. I felt very silly, hence the chagrined smile. Anywho, I think it’s cool that these flowers were like, “Oh it’s fall, time to come out!” Seasons introduce a whole range of curiosities—I understand how trees are like, “Ooo, it’s warm, time to make leaves,” or “Ooo, it’s cold, time to ditch the leaves,” but flowers thinking, “Ooo, it’s cool enough, time to spy on the riverbank with our alien antennae,” is totally new to me. Fascinating!