When we left our garden
It was summer
And now we're back
There's an ominous honking on the lake up the hill as the Canada geese gather to fly south - those that are going, as they don't all go. Perhaps they're having a political convention - probably making a lot more sense than the human equivalent. On the lane it's tapestry time - a massive impressionist painting of asters and goldenrod.
We have a huge number of apples this year - at least we can eat these - well, we can stew them.
Which is more than I can say for these - chucked down by the energetic crabapple tree in front of the house.
There was a crescent moon the other morning
followed by a pretty dawn .
And the other way, the sun deceptively colouring the hills
Our wooden neighbour now sports a soccer (sic) ball. It must be the season.
But so far not many leaf colours - just a single reddish tree on the hill
Made up for by some booty from the farmers' market.