The porch was covered with fallen leaves this morning when I went out to tend the dogs and chickens. I swept it off, and it was soon covered again. With leaves falling like rain, it’s a pretty non-ending task. Maybe I will just wait until later to clear it again.

Daylight is late to arrive, and early to leave. The hanging  baskets of impatiens and begonia are looking forlorn. I will bring them in today and hope to coax a bit more beauty from them inside.

Fallen leaves make a carpet across the lawn and into the trees. Red, gold, brown, somewhere in the world there is a weaver, trying to duplicate the colors and the mystic patterns, or so I like to think.

The weather is changing, I feel it in my bones.

Today, I look at bright blue sky, a chain of geese flowing overhead. A cacophony of bird song as feathered flyers race from branch to branch and along the ground searching for food.

A couple of ground squirrels have been seen, dashing with acorn filled cheeks. The roof clatter of acorns falling has diminished, only an occasional thump after the clatter of the past few weeks. A squirrel  skitters around, wary of the penned dogs on its way to fill a winter cache.

A gust of wind lifts and whirls some errant leaves past the window.

Things are getting ready to ‘snuggle down’. There will, of course, be some lovely days to come, but God and Nature are getting ready for the rest and renewal time.

So am I, plans for crafts, baking and such fill my head, anticpation of Thanksgiving and Christmas togetherness.

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