A Fall Morning at the Cabin

This morning I took a deep breath and inhaled the sweet aroma of the forest in the fall. The sky is overcast with more shades of gray and cloud patterns than I can count. It is the kind of complex layers of cloudiness that I only see in October and November. A breeze from the northwest rattles the leaves. A red-tailed hawk and a few turkey vultures were aloft before the day had fully broken.
If you had told me in the midst of Tuesday’s heat that the season would change so completely and so utterly in 36 hours, I don’t think I would have believed you. Outside the cabin, it now looks like fall, it feels like October, and I feel energized. The winds have pulled down many of the leaves that turned color early, so around the cabin this morning I have this weird mix of newly bare trees and green trees, with fallen leaves on the ground.

This morning it was too dark when I left the cabin to notice if my winter view of the western mountains is back. I rather suspect that the barest outline of it will be visible, but that the full view is still a few weeks away.

Last evening, while the weather was still cooling, I took Dog for a long walk in the woods. He ran around like a puppy, not behaving a bit the middle-aged gentleman he is. The weather has fired him up too, and he ran and sniffed and ran some more until we headed, him panting like freight train, back to the cabin.