"...She had only to stand in the orchard, to put her hand on a little crab tree and look up at the apples, to make you feel the goodness of planting and tending and harvesting at last."
~Willa Cather

Fall has arrived and even sort of here in Inferno (Florida). I take Miss Daisy for long, long walks at night, usually around 10 PM because it allows me to stroll unencumbered by the forced socialization that comes with walking the dog between the hours of, say, 5 PM and 9 PM. I don't want to engage in pointless, meaningless polite chatter with people just because our dogs choose to sniff the same mailbox pole or each other.

I want to pop my iPod into my ears and listen to the Moody Blues. Or listen to the song birds chirping because they do that here at night, which is lovely and eerie all at the same time.

Autumn is here and there is much to do and think about it and I do my best thinking while examining a flattened lizard in the street with Miss Daisy. We marvel at how it has smooshed into the contours of the shell-rock road, baked in by the sun so that is looks like a Jurrasic specimen just unearthed by breathless archaeologists with toothbrushes.

Laura is here from Alabama and we will all gather at Kip's this afternoon. I am so excited about nestling into the collective bosom of my pack of she-devil home-girls I feel like crying with relief. The word that best describes it: release.

Tonight we will drive over the bridge to visit with Julian and sip sangria in his back yard festooned with twinkly white lights and candles the size of third grade children. He has promised to wear clogs and a red caftan and sing me an Elton John song or two.