Fall is being selective about when and where it makes an appearance. The thermometer plunged this week and the trees have responded. Monochromatic brushstrokes of yellow and gold have yielded to reds and oranges. A single tree more closely resembles a patchwork quilt than a Rothko painting.
We shared our morning walk with my mom, who is visiting from Texas. My love of the natural world was inherited from my mother, who inherited it from hers. We are women whose hands are never too far from a plot of earth.
The sun is now setting and the woods will become dim in the twilight. Tonight we will sit in front of the fireplace and talk or we will be struck dumb by the beauty of the flames. Either way, we will be warmed inside and out.
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