|Looking northeasterly from the south field. The fields grow brown as the rape canes deteriorate.|
It was nearly 5:00 yesterday morning when one of us pulled up the blanket and the other punched the button to turn it on. We never did go back to sleep. When I got up at 6:00, it was a chilly 54 degrees. As I dressed, I laid out my flannel pajamas and made the bed with blankets at the ready, but it was all “a bit too previous.” By noon the sun was good and warm, and at bedtime the house was still too warm for flannel and blankets. Ah, such is the way of the seasonal change.
|Now we see Teakean Butte . . .|
These cool mornings are another way that garden plants and other vegetation realize that the season is indeed changing. Brother Chuck asked me if my garden is still producing, and I mentioned the pumpkins and the zucchini and the cherry tomatoes. We assured each other that they would continue to produce for several weeks. But –we’ll see.
|. . . now we don't.|
My mother used to say that by Sept. 10 it was necessary to dispel the morning chill for the health of her family, and she would insist on a fire in the furnace. That was her belief, but Mike and I don’t live that way and seem to get by just fine with jackets and sweaters – and perhaps baking something.
|. . . now it disappears.|
|Now we see Little Canyon . . .|
And the wildfire smoke? – Well, over the weekend the air cleared a lot, and now our land features fade in and out. Yesterday morning I could clearly see Teakean Butte to the north, but smoke was visible above the river. To the south, Little Canyon still held some smoke. But within an hour, the smoke was drifting in again, obliterating our view of the butte and the canyon. Oh well. At least the sky is blue above us.