Yesterday I had the door open and all day in the background was the sound of leaves rustling across the ground. Labor Day brought with it the orange undertone that creeps into everything green. Even the light is getting that low angled rust color to it and the squirrels and I are rushing to hoard the end of summer bounty.

In among tomatoes of every shape and size, the first little Benning’s Patty Pan squash. Fresh light green, to remind me that in the not too distant future it will all start over with spring.

I was talking to my friend V about all sorts of things: the meaning of life, mandalas, colored pencils…

A couple of hours later she sent me a picture of this amazing 13th century field structure, near Montady in France. And it made me think of the meaning of life, mandalas, and colored pencils.

Irene blew through here and we were without power and water for a couple of days.

We were lucky compared to many, but we did get a little swimming pool in the basement, so there’s been some throwing out of damaged things, and a lot of laying stuff out to dry.

Being without hot water for four days sure makes me grateful for my shower now that it’s back.