October lulls us with its smoky, cinder scent— leaf pyres, Hickory bark, pine sap and pith. Drowsy bees tunnel in reedy milkweed stems and there are too many cocoons beneath the poplars and oaks to mow. A cold wind sends me and the dogs back in, where I coax a chirping cricket out from behind the piano, release it back into the gray cashmere sweater of afternoon, put on the tea kettle and daydream about winter’s long sleep.
So vivid, so real. Why I love this time of year. Thank you.
Beautiful