Season’s thoughts are playing through my mind, triggered by my senses. The cooling breezes drifting through the windows – open all around – welcome crisp, clean air throughout the house. A batch of pumpkin bread baking in the oven sends aromas of harvest-time – spicy and pungent. Stepping into the garden, already trimmed back, raked, and ready for winter, my hand reaches into the loose soil to pluck a tenacious nuthatch from among the deep green and budding mums. Having placed a handful of raw peanuts in the box on the oak, a little gray squirrel scampers down to do what all animals do at this time of year. Stuffing two peanuts in his mouth, he rustles through the butterfly garden in search of a hiding place for his treasures. The deep blue of the sky overhead provides a canopy of cheerfulness against the dulling greens and rusty browns that are spreading throughout my perennials. Not even much of a strain, I detect autumn in the southern peninsula we call “home” – sights, sounds, aromas, tastes, and touches of a season rich with texture and visual delight – a cornucopia of senses for the soul and spirit.
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