No doubt

This summer and early fall has gone by so quickly that I've been somewhat reluctant to admit that it truly is fall, and winter truly is coming. But there can be no doubt now. From the leaves under my feet to the view of our forest from any window in the house, leaves are coloring and falling, drought be damned. 

The bean plants are in the compost, as are the indigo plants, which I was loath to pull because they have been such a delightful curiosity. The maples range from fiery red to orange to yellow, and while many predicted less vibrant colors this year due to the drought, I'm not sure I saw it. The colors did seem to be timed differently, and now they're almost done.

I drained and stored two of  our three hoses yesterday, and John blew out the irrigation lines. The patio is sealed, and the outdoor furniture stowed safely in my studio. 

 

 

We're almost ready for the freezing weather, at least physically. Psychologically, I find I am not looking forward to winter and snow as much as I usually do. It might be Jasper's absence. I've been taking our old usual hikes, and when I'm alone I can almost see him with me. . . waiting at a fork in the trail to make sure I'm OK; his intelligent face making sure I'm still with him, and then heading up the trail with renewed energy. It is amazing to be loved by a dog, but I was especially privileged to have him in my life.