Fall

The days are getting shorter and our Indian summer is coming to a close tomorrow; the leaves of trees are beginning to turn.

I am reminded of the evenings at my grandparents' house where the light source was coming from within- that soft yellow contrasted by the deep blue of night sky. My memories are filled with this soft glow. I am reminded of that time more and more, even as I enter our house the first smell that hits me is the smell of their home.

It is time to sow the cold season crops, the leafy greens, radishes, maybe a pea or two.

I have to see what the potential is of keeping the oil paints in the garage, not knowing how long I will be able to occupy the space in the cold.

I want to continue biking when weather permits.

I like fall when no more than a vest is needed- just enough to be cozy; when there is frost on the ground that melts as soon as the sun reaches it. I'm slowly and carefully ripping a pair of white linen women's pants. In the end I hope to reassemble them into a doily/crystal pattern.