My favourite month

I agree with John. I know, I know, this assignment is really, really late. It took a walk with the dog on a day like today to bring the point home to me. There is nothing so peaceful as a sunny, mid-autumn day; the lazily falling leaves starting to blanket the ground seem almost to mute even the incessant traffic sounds. Walking through the middle of town feels like walking through the middle of the woods.

The leaves are only just starting here. The birch tree in the front yard will be brilliant yellow shortly, but is still mostly green. The elm in the back yard is more than half brilliant red already. The maple next door, with leaves larger than I have seen on any tree before, has made a start on its annual orangification.

Still, the garden hangs on. The cucumbers are growing willy nilly, as if they sense the coming winter and are desperate to ripen at least one fruit to seed. We continually thwart their best efforts by picking them when they reach optimum salad size. The cherry tomatoes have a wealth of ripening bounty, much to the delight of Shadow. I'm telling you, if you want this dog to learn a new trick, cherry tomatoes are the miracle snack. He's begun turning his nose up at the twenty dollar freeze dried liver treats. Even the roses are blooming to the end. This one has been hosting a spider looking for that last fly of the season.

Soon enough, it will all be covered with snow. We usually see our first snowfall shortly before Halloween; that same Halloween that, in these parts, has the reputation of being the day having the first, truly unpleasant weather of the season. But that's more than three weeks away, and hopefully, we can stretch out our Indian summer-like mid-autumn experience a little while longer. If you will excuse me, I have to work on an excuse to take the dog for another walk.