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…And the pace is picking up though we crunch through piles of gold toward the next part of the year.  (Have you ever noticed how much I like ellipses?  And parentheses! Where the hell would we be without them?)

My favorite color scheme is in effect now, yellow leaves bright against the deep blue sky, and black branches offering red and orange tributes to the sun.  Light shines  with force as the days shorten.  Desperation as the season ends?  A few last claims of “But I’m not tired!” before the fractious continent returns to real time?

We continue to batten down the hatches–wrapping the fountain, tucking in the plants, filling cracks against drafts–and the big project, the new roof, will begin before too long.  Wonder what kind of posts I’ll produce with all that activity just above my garret.

I’m looking forward to the peace of snowfall.  The quiet of decisions made.  So many activities abate in the cold, and surely this year the lessening of frenzy will result in new lucidity, to say nothing of rich, lurid plots.  One can hope.

For now I shake my head against the noisy, whirling air and let out a breath.  All will be well.  After winter scours the land spring will come again.

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