Fall isn’t my favorite time of year. Spring is. This is because summer follows spring, a wonderful time of year. Winter follows fall, a not so wonderful time of year. I have spent all but one year of my life in places in which there is a clearly discernable season called winter. I spent that one year in Conway South Carolina, where I taught at the local college. The winter went by really fast, and in fact, it felt surreal. I stored my winter gear in a shed next to the house I was then living in.

This has turned out to be a really beautiful fall, with very good weather. Tonight, the green-yellow leaves on the trees contrasted with the gray-blue sky. And the low-lying sun highlighted the tree leaves. And the smell of fall – this is the best part.

Hrimmi with chainsaw rig

I took Raudi out at 7:00 p.m., now almost too late to ride because it’s now dark by 8:00 p.m. Had I been out an hour earlier, I would have caught the best of the fall colors. I rode our regular trails. As it was, I got home at dusk. This isn’t the best time to ride because the animals are then out and about, and Raudi, being Raudi, is, at this time, more liable to spin around and run the other way.

It was quiet, peaceful. The hunters are now gone. They do not make it a habit to go into the woods before or after hunting season. They are there for one reason and one reason only, and this is to get Moosey-Moosey. I make it a habit to go into the woods before and after hunting season. Tonight I found myself wondering if they noticed that the high bush cranberries are now ripe and that the fireweed, which topped out a few weeks ago, is stalky with white fuzz.

Yes, it was a very peaceful ride. I am, like today, going to try and get home early tomorrow so that I can go out again. Pete said that he took Hrimmi out – he put the chainsaw on the platform he made, the platform rests on her pack saddle – and opened a path that had been closed by a falling tree. He also took Ryder for a walk up Jim’s Road who was glad (he said) to be off leash.

My workday was uneventful. I worked quietly, alone. The high point occurred when I went to stock A-Moosement Park. I met up with a woman and her three children, and as well, their dog, a furry white puppy with two gray eye patches. The mother said that it was a Great Pyrenees. It was readily apparent that this dog was one of the family.

I gave the oldest child, a little boy about five years old, all the I Can Read books that I had on hand. He was very excited about this. And once again, I thought, this is why I do this.

I guess I’m lucky. I have access to all the books I’d ever want. And a house and yard full of animals.

Next: 259. 9/29/26: Going, going, gone