Dried fern

If I were in keeping with the times, I would have taken lots of pictures of our Thanksgiving feast—the one that this year, for the first time, I was in charge of (I've always been the sous chef, but I've been promoted)—then posted them to Instagram. There was, however, one problem with this modern scenario. First, I don't have a photo-taking cell phone, and, second, I don't have an Instagram account. I also, because I was so darn busy, did not take any pictures of the food-making and serving. But before everything began, I managed to get outside for a quick walk and spotted a dried and coiled fern. This more resembles an early-season fiddlehead than an end of the season frond, and I'm not sure how the leaf coiled back on itself so perfectly... as if it had reversed the season. Maybe it's an omen, a different sign of the times. In the growing season's end is its beginning. Metaphor captured. Back to the kitchen.