-brilliance in the blue of the sky, the leaves in the trees, the marigolds and pumpkins in the garden.
-coyotes singing along the ridge.
-flurries in the air.
-nasturtiums, picked before the first hard frost of the season, when their stems turned to a pungent mush.
-tarps and tarps full of fallen and raked leaves, dragged to the deep woods by the stone wall.
-a glass of cider, savored while sitting on the picnic table.
-the canoe, the rain barrel and the garden hoses, tucked away until next spring.
-closets cleaned and reorganized.
-muffins filled with local blueberries from the freezer.
-swapping out the screens for the storm door on the three season porch.
-howling wind at night, while snug under the pile of blankets and quilt, with Henry asleep in the mix.
-our old friend, oatmeal, sprinkled with pecans, dried cranberries and puddled with almond milk.
-the last of the carrots, forked out of the soil, and chard tucked into the produce drawer in the fridge.
-paper rolls of drawings and plans, spread out on the dining table, dreams in the making.
-candle light.
-mulching the peonies and the blueberry bushes, and wishing them a safe winter's rest.
-a drive up and over the Rochester Gap for lattes and comfortable and familiar conversation.
-always, a fire in the Home Comfort, to take away the chill.
-pulling over to the side of the road in the late afternoon, to cast a few on the White River. (The best way to be out of the office).
-blessings. so many blessings.
