Fall Comes to the Valley
I've been missing for about two weeks now, due to my family being sick, one by one, and then succumbing to the crud myself. I still sound like James Earl Jones imitating a donkey, but I'm vastly improved.
While I've been recuperating I have missed the best time of the year around here. I suppose fall is the best time of the year anywhere, but it's especially sweet, after the punishing summers we get in the north valley, to have 80 degree days in November. The wasps take advantage of the Indian Summer to swarm around the south sides of buildings in the still warm air; since both of our outside doors are south-facing, it's hard to get in and out of the house without letting at least one wasp inside.
(Photo stolen from this guy)
The orange trees in our front yard are suddenly obstructions we can't see past, as the branches sag lower under the fruit loads they bear. The young oranges are heavier and heavier with juice, pale yellow among the shiny green leaves. Weren't the oranges green just yesterday? I guess I haven't been paying attention.
Today Chas took the loppers to the fig tree in the back yard. I used to have a go at it once or twice a year, trying to keep it in line. I gave up. Fig trees will one day co-rule the earth with cockroaches.
Through the open windows tonight I can hear the bawling of cows separated from calves, other cows, and familiar territory. Mom and Dad moved some cows around today, from one pasture to another, and on a warm night following such a big cattle move it can be cacophonous around the ranch. Lucky for me I sleep like the dead.
Finally, people who know far more than me have told me to expect a cold winter this year. They offer as evidence the surprising number of early acorns already fallen from oak trees -- Farmer's Almanac stuff. I could have saved them the trouble; it's going to be a cold winter when oil prices are nearly $100 a barrel and climbing -- Murphy's Law stuff.