Mclane Nature Trail

Fading Flowers

Darkness is creeping quick onto the days. Everyone is talking about it and I'm that jerk that secretly likes it.  Maybe it comes with being rooted in the Northwest. Yeah yeah yeah, I'm so happy when the sun is out and the feeling is glowy. Sure, I dream of drifting on a sandy cloud with a river running thru and a sunhat the size of a pizza. But I think there is a fulfillment for me to having dark times. If it's not a need, at least I feel at home in it. The short days to crawl back into bed, walk thru dark damp woods, forlorn music, grey, muted colors. I've been told my clothes are washed in clay. I guess this is why hot pink sweaters and turquoise socks have snuck into my closet lately and why Dean puts this record on. They force the light in. I need that force sometimes; superficial or not. Getting stuck in the dark is no place to be.

 I can't get enough of the fading flowers. They peer thru the dim light; a nod to summer, a bow to winter.

Halloween happened. We carved pumpkins after Sawyer went to sleep. We weren't going to because of being lazy but a hacked up kitty face quickly found it's way on our porch. It was a quick and dirty job; the two of us carving simultaneously on a big pumpkin head, unstoppable laughter. We didn't win any carving contests but a dim and toothy glow, unintentionally frightful, greeted the deluge of treaters tromping up to our house.

Typical Halloween sky.  Typical baby pumpkin.