Mist

Mist. Inside and out. Autumn is passing - it seems to creep along and suddenly it's peak color and just as suddenly everything turns mahogany and the year hinge turns to November's grey sky, grey trees, grey everything. It's also the week of Halloween and I get weird every year by now. I'm actually surprised how long it took me to get weird this year. Some years the weirdness creeps in by September 1st, most years Columbus day weekend is when I turn my gaze to the past and to my own ancestral roots. But maybe having a job I like and lots going on in other ways is keeping me less morose than usual this time of year. How refreshing for everyone around - particularly the ones who live with me, Steve and this season, Kate.

As I drove out this morning, after being stood up by yet another plumber - I'm ready to break out the freaking pipe wrench and do it myself, even though the vanity and sink look particularly attractive in the living room - I saw a wild turkey. We haven't had flocks of them in our yard this year, but that's probably because I haven't put out any vodka laced seeds for them to get drunk on in the compost bins. I wish I had the presence of mind to have taken pictures that morning. A flock of turkeys is a definite possibility with all our trees and good stuff to eat - but a flock of staggering drunken turkeys - that doesn't happen every day.