The Filling Moon

Night has again slipped by as the moon became round. A herd of deer passed up the street after midnight, their hooves clattering on the pavement. They were gray in the moonlight which was softened by thin, silver sheets of cloud. I watched them until they vanished in the shade of the oaks. They did not run this time, though they must have seen me more clearly than I saw them. This particular group must be getting used to seeing me outdoors at night. I'm pleased that they continue to visit even though I no longer have flowers growing in the yard. I wonder if they miss their snack of pansies? They probably view the abundant roses across the street as adequate compensation. I hope they return tomorrow night, when the moon is entirely full.

Windy

I woke to find that the wind had risen to shake the trees and strew leaves and pine needles about. The ground is now quite crunchy underfoot, and the air is at that delightful stage between crisp and balmy. The sky, where it is not dusted with complex swirls of cirrus clouds, has taken on that deep, autumnal blue which signifies October. Truly blustery days cannot be far off, now, when envigored winds will fill the air with last spring's growth now spent, and flocks of quacking ducks and honking geese will inscribe the sky with fluid calligraphy announcing winter's approach. As yet, the fallen leaves are only yellow or brown, and many are still green, but soon there will be red as well, like licks of flame to warm one's thoughts on chilly days. Where they spread across the back lawn, I will gather from among them the new crop of walnuts, inside whose rumpled shells the year's warmth is preserved, to be savored on long winter nights.