We seems to walk {lots}…here and there…morning, afternoon, evening…and Boomer and I once a night. We go about our business walking in the the fluttering leaves as the slight breeze continues to strip the trees of their summer beauty.

The little shadows from the falling leaving making multiple shadows, as the sun hits them and the ground provides a resting spot.

In the morning the glowing sun throws shadows against the western walls and doors of our sheds.

Sammy likes to hide in the old, abandoned treehouse checking for little elves who dance in the shade of the leaves and hide in the bark waiting for humans to leave.

The evening light ruffles over the land– dark and wavy in spots and gold where the setting sun catches it.

It’s peaceful along the lanes and our farm roads.  A sort of absolute lacking of humans– when it’s only you and other mortals are miles and miles away.

Work ends late at harvest time,  Later than the end of Daylight-Savings Time.

Still Boomer and I walk in the moonlight — last night it was of a brilliant half moon.

We go before the moon sets (right now the moon sets way before midnight)  Under a blaze of brilliant stars.  If I don’t wear a coat we walk briskly in the night, if I wear a coat we saunder along.  It just depends on the how the cold has shredded the warmth of the day.

The night time is not still, you know.  The trees click and clack and the leaves rustle and rather roar as they glide down onto the earth.  The Blue Spruce Tree  needles are also not silent, like one would think.

The owl’s call one to another…there are flutterings of startled day birds as I walk by.  Once in awhile you can hear a lonely dog barking and always, always the howls of coyotes upon the land.

From my world to your heart