Although our view faces east, the sky often lights up at dusk with a warm glow.
This morning, very similar clouds had a much cooler appearance, but while it was a chilly morning there was no frost last night.
Washing dishes can still be entertaining even though the groundhogs seem finally to have retired.
Last appearance 20th October.
The camera is usually ready…
and sometimes I get lucky.
How very cute is the Tufted Titmouse.
This year it’s not just the Fall leaves that are abundant. There has been more of everything. Including, now, ladybirds. They are everywhere.
Grant was working outside yesterday and found himself bombarded, every bit as badly as by flies this Summer. And they bite.
Though I have always been protective of ladybirds, it is quite hard with so many of them about, to avoid stepping on them.
This one nearly got wiped up when I was cleaning off the counter. I offered it a drop of water but it declined, politely, having something else in mind.
“Places to go. Things to do.”
It stopped briefly for an intense grooming session.
Then went on its way.
A couple of mornings ago, this apparition drew my attention.
Some new development of my eyesight?
“Grant, can you see this?”
Yes. He could.
We put our heads on one side and then the other.
The camera’s view was even more intriguing.
It was a combination of reflections.
In part, it was the crystals that hang in a front window.
Then I remembered Grant has been seeking to reduce energy costs and he had draped an emergency blanket over a rear window. It’s silver coloured and crinkly.
A thing of beauty, it is not. But the cats don’t care and I don’t have to look at it. The reflections are fun!
The glass in the picture frame turned the reflection green. Curious.
Then I saw sunlight catching a few remaining leaves.
The un-fallen branch made me ponder:
“Severed, not yet fallen”
“Down not out”
“Not over till it’s over”
It started me thinking about life, in general and I visualized a leaf, fallen into a mountain spring, bobbing along into a brook, a stream, through some rapids and over a waterfall, then out into a great wide river delta, thence to the ocean beyond.
The progression of a human life?
The thought of an ocean beyond comforts me.
Not really because of my own mortality. The idea of returning to a “oneness”.
In this modern world most of us blunder through life, doing what we must to survive, taking enjoyment where we can, but how often are we able to stop and think?
Being a shy and often tongue-tied person, I have always done a lot of thinking but it’s only since I moved to the country and had the chance to observe Nature that I have really thought about what it all means.
Maybe it’s what one does, later in life.
You lose more and more people you love, so you seek comfort in believing that it’s all a cycle.
The proof is there, outside my window.