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Days of warm sunshine and cool air are the mark of October in the mountains. In the woodlands, the honeyed light pours down through filtering pine needles into path and glade, and glitters in the yellowing leaves of the undergrowth. On days such as this, the mellowed memory of summer lingers in the scent of dried grasses, like the subtle aftertaste of heady wine. Bird song drifts through the day, and soft breezes hum and flutter in my ears. Squirrels scamper through the trees, barking, and smaller creatures rustle in the brush. There comes a perfect moment when time stops in mid-flight and hovers, like a hummingbird sipping nectar from the full blossom of the day.

In the evening, after the last rays of sunlight have briefly burnished the trunks of the ponderosas with a warm red glow, the moon appears over a shoulder of the mountains. It is the first full moon of autumn. It is floating free of the pine-studded ridge to the east, now. This will probably also be the last full moon of the year to occur on a night warm enough for spending any length of time outdoors. I will go out, now, and watch its light enchant the shadowy woods.

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