Changing

It wasn't because the delta breeze was blowing.  It was cooler, yes, but yesterday was that magical day when the air just felt different, that day when you know that the season has changed and fall has arrived.  I'd noticed a couple of dropped acorns in the drive; time to get out the hard hats for the hens.  I've been talking to the chickens anyhow.  They've been stripped down to their bikinis for the summer; now they've got to put their feathers back on.  This group of turkey ladies chatted amiably together as they pecked and scratched through the herb garden in the afternoon.  The marjoram, yarrow, and thyme have crept out into the walkway, but it's so hard to keep plants alive that I haven't the heart to dig these adventurers up and keep them confined.  Besides, it smells good if you should happen to step on a few.

Blue moon rising didn't look blue to me, but it was a nice thought.  I heard we won't get another until 2015.  The beastie boys, the "children of the night," (in other words, the coyotes) have been running the hills in the moonlight and singing their night songs.  They awaken something primal in Bessie Anne.  She tries to join in the chorus, but sounds, as I was telling Joel, like she was gargling with battery acid.

Temps back up in the high nineties are predicted for this week, but you'd never know it this morning.  I woke up frozen, wishing I had the quilt back on the bed.  It was easier to get up and put on slippers and robe than lie there trying to get warm.  Now that's a change!