The Early Fall

All the peeps who love Fall love it because it's . . . beautiful? Or dry as an old shoe?

Or both?

But no. I'm getting much better at life and I understand that Time Flies and that Fall is not the end of something . . . oh, wait. Yes it is. It's the end of Summer.

But no, what I'm trying to say is that even there is not a shred of humidity in the air for the foreseeable future, I'm okay with it.

Okay-ish.

Because things in Fall really are beautiful.

Our own garden is gorgeous of course, but we were out at Harkness yesterday and it is truly spectacular out there . . .

See? Even the monarchs love it . . .

The gardens are full of purple balls . . . 

. . .  and puff balls . . .

. . . and all classes of gorgeousness . . .

. . . like monarchs . . .

. . . and 110-year-old trees.

But, frankly, things were better when we got home. Things are always better when we get home. I mean, we try; we do. We go out into the world and we enjoy it but by God when we get home . . .

. . . we're happy to arrive . . .

. . . to enjoy our own brand of loveliness.

Because the thing is . . .


. . . we have a seriously beautiful Early Fall brand of loveliness in our Garden . . .

. . . and we also occasionally find this nugget among the blossoms . . .

. . . and there is nothing in the garden or in the Field or at Harkness or on God's green earth that is more adorable.