These are the very best days of fall in Oregon. The temperature hit 79 degrees today, and the aspen trees in my neighborhood have started dropping their lemon yellow leaves like confetti.There’s a light breeze out, and the deep, resonant chimes (Chimes of Apollo) I’ve hung on the from porch are bonging softly–a restful and melodious sound. I’m sitting on the front porch, reading a book, with the dog, Rowan, snoozing at my feet.
This morning as we walked by the lake, a little kingfisher followed the dog and I, alternately scolding at us from the top of a tree as we passed beneath or diving into the mirrored surface for tiny silver fish. There’s a big blue heron I see most days, stalking prey from the shore–still as a statue until he strikes. When we walk past, he glares at us with his golden eyes in distinct disapproval, as if to say, keep moving, this is MY spot.
The weekend promises to bring wetter, chillier, and more typical seasonal temps, but I don’t mind. The writer’s life gives me the freedom to grab the days of glorious sunshine whenever they come.
Spending time outside when the weather is this perfect is more than just enjoyable, it’s research!
