Defining a Word Through Fine Art

I'm using this blog post to bring attention to the fine art world on Etsy by choosing one word and posting how different artists present it through their work.
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As a kid, the Chicago Tribune always printed this in the fall and I always read it, I hope you enjoy it, too. (Etsy artist's work follows at the end)

INJUN SUMMER
John T. McCutcheon
Chicago Tribune, September 30, 1907

Yep, sonny this is sure enough Injun summer. Don't know what that is, I reckon, do you? Well, that's when all the homesick Injuns come back to play; You know, a long time ago, long afore yer granddaddy was born even, there used to be heaps of Injuns around here—thousands—millions, I reckon, far as that's concerned. Reg'lar sure 'nough Injuns—none o' yer cigar store Injuns, not much. They wuz all around here—right here where you're standin'.

Don't be skeered—hain't none around here now, leastways no live ones. They been gone this many a year.

They all went away and died, so they ain't no more left.

But every year, 'long about now, they all come back, leastways their sperrits do. They're here now. You can see 'em off across the fields. Look real hard. See that kind o' hazy misty look out yonder? Well, them's Injuns—Injun sperrits marchin' along an' dancin' in the sunlight. That's what makes that kind o' haze that's everywhere—it's jest the sperrits of the Injuns all come back. They're all around us now.

See off yonder; see them tepees? They kind o' look like corn shocks from here, but them's Injun tents, sure as you're a foot high. See 'em now? Sure, I knowed you could. Smell that smoky sort o' smell in the air? That's the campfires a-burnin' and their pipes a-goin'.

Lots o' people say it's just leaves burnin', but it ain't. It's the campfires, an' th' Injuns are hoppin' 'round 'em t'beat the old Harry.

You jest come out here tonight when the moon is hangin' over the hill off yonder an' the harvest fields is all swimmin' in the moonlight, an' you can see the Injuns and the tepees jest as plain as kin be. You can, eh? I knowed you would after a little while.

Jever notice how the leaves turn red 'bout this time o' year? That's jest another sign o' redskins. That's when an old Injun sperrit gits tired dancin' an' goes up an' squats on a leaf t'rest. Why I kin hear 'em rustlin' an' whisper in' an' creepin' 'round among the leaves all the time; an' ever' once'n a while a leaf gives way under some fat old Injun ghost and comes floatin' down to the ground. See—here's one now. See how red it is? That's the war paint rubbed off'n an Injun ghost, sure's you're born.

Purty soon all the Injuns'll go marchin' away agin, back to the happy huntin' ground, but next year you'll see 'em troopin' back—th' sky jest hazy with 'em and their campfires smolderin' away jest like they are now.

Indian Summer ~ Wikipedia says ...

The generally accepted use of the term is when the weather is sunny and clear, and above 21 °C (70 °F), and all of the leaves of the trees have turned but before the first snow has fallen; a period normally associated with mid-October to late-November in the northern states of the U.S. Traditionally, Indian summer can only be a true Indian summer after the first frost, generally a killing frost, of the season.

Indian Summer
by UmaPaints

My So Called Indian Summer 1
by manuelarchuleta

Indian Summer
by smokeycrystal

Indian Summer Nature Print
by Briole

On Sacred Grounds
by ClydeKellerPhoto

Indian Summer
by KimSchweitzerArt

Indian Summer Five Feathers
by sensitiveartist

Indian Summer
by wvogt69

Dressed in Red
by MatkirschPhoto

Evening by galeriedeilluminata