These are the days when we rise before the sun...
heading to the barn beneath a starry, moonless sky.
The earth is so still at this time...
Neighboring cows moo and break the silence.
In the distance a coyote yips...
another one answers.
And then, except for the crunch of my boots on gravel... silence.
Some of the solar lights are still burning on Maven Haven.
I had the foresight to bring all of the hanging plants,
that had hung on her front porch,
into the house.
Yes, it's that time.
The fiery glow of a heat lamp illuminates the door to the pig stall.
The pigs are sleeping inside, cozy beneath the warmth of their lamp
on this still, September morning.
We've dressed in layers...
the mercury has fallen to measure 28 degrees.
As the sun rises to meet the horizon we see the sparkly glaze that has
enveloped the ground.
That's it... the first frost has come.
What's left of the garden is soon to fade.
We've hit the pivot point between seasons
and jumped the fence to an early autumn.
The buzz of summer busy-ness was delightful,
but it's soon time to rest...
to recharge our batteries.
To turn inward.
To enjoy the fruits of summer's labor.
There is a comfort in this change of season.