Sea of white pine backing our lawn has yellow needles interspersed - pretty highlighting - but I hear it's acid rain ruining the tree.

Extravagant fall day - flocks of mixed birds led by indomitable chickadees busying through; leaves drifting down, casting and strewing in every gentle breeze; air so fragrant, so lovely; colors in pastels and sherbets - pinks, oranges, crimsons and yellows. Everything dropping, drooping, complicated and revealing. Butterflies, dragonflies; bees buzzing slower, and even pausing. I come upon one or two fat bumblebees motionless, chomped into a face of flower, shocked still, by what I don't know - a channel of crisp fall air, a whole whole summer of buzzing suddenly piled up and done, suddenly to the end of the story.

Micheal Wall's "beginning" found its way into this week's rite, surprising me!