...where the breeze through the window a shade cooler than mild blessing the skin in puffs scented softly of damp leaves, the sky a gentle blue with the faintest haze of high cloud, trees lightly dusted in gold, sounds of children playing out of sight, a magpie chuckling to itself at it's own joke, the swish of car cruising lazily past our street.
This is my fall morning.
The potted tomato yields a few red cherries every morning. The zucchinis have worn themselves out. Thumbelina carrots pop out plump and ready. I've pulled all the leeks save three. Flowers are resting except for my geranium which is bursting in a half dozen broad red blooms. Hubby asks if we can have "more of those" next summer. Parsley overflows in it's own pot, ready to be brought inside when the cold weather comes.
It is as if the land waits in stillness for what is sure to come.
