It's that time again.
(She says with a longing sigh.)
If each season has a temperament late fall is melancholic. Foggy, damp, chilly, and grey. Quiet.
But even so it's still starkly beautiful. So different from a month ago. A simple, almost sad beauty. There is abundant color beneath our feet but none dancing up in the sky.
So I'm snuggled in my woolies, watching it all transform.
It's time to harvest the last of the kale and put this garden to bed. It's time to build an all-season chicken coop so that our girls stay warm when winter arrives. It's time to plan and dream and sketch and plot all that we'll create in the spring, as we dig deep once more in the muddy earth.
What about in your world? What does this season bring?