moosefest

Come said the wind to
the leaves one day,
Come o’re the meadows
and we will play.
Put on your dresses
scarlet and gold,
For summer is gone
and the days grow cold.
–a children’s song from the 1880’s

The temperatures are hovering in the 60s, and rainwater’s flowing down the parched hillsides, dousing fires as it quenches the thirsty chaparral. A hummingbird is perched on our backyard feeder, showering the begonias as she shakes her rain-soaked wings. You have to look hard to find them, perhaps, but these are signs of early autumn in the land of year-round foliage and (almost) perpetual sunshine.

These seasonal changes are different, of course, than the ones I saw in rural New England. The skies were wooly-gray much of the time, whether from misty rain or wood burning fireplaces. No worries, though—I just bundled up, downed some diet hot chocolate, and traded my flip-flops (temporarily) for warm socks and closed-toe shoes.

 

My little Coolpix doesn’t do fashion shoots all that well, but Mother Nature knows how to compensate. Here she is, all decked out in her autumn finery.  

 

I am glad for the overcast skies, glad also for the rainfall. I’m especially happy, though, to settle into home again. Today I’m going to turn on the gas fireplace, cozy up under my crocheted afghan, and find my way back into my writing.

But first, how ’bout I put on the teakettle? I’m craving your company this morning. LiveJournal is lonely these days, don’t you think? Tell me what fall looks like in your neck of the woods. One lump of sugar or two? And would you like a slice of lemon? Tell me, please, what’s the latest with you and yours?