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As any other –

It was a beautiful day; temps in the low 60’s and when the opportunity came to be alone, I knew just where. I carried a cup of coffee and a book (long overdue for finishing) to the swing on the back fence line. Unsure as to whether dampness might have settled there, I took along a blanket and spread it over a collection of fallen leaves.

The wind sang enough that the swing moved without effort, and so I pulled my legs up into the swing as well. Ahhhhh; this is heaven.

I had barely finished reading two pages when the hunting began behind me. Apparently, harvest had been lost in the leaves and the scramble to find them was in full swing. I tried to ignore (I really tried to ignore) but the harder I tried, the louder the rustling. Finally, I shut the book and declared, ‘okay; I’m putting it away’………..and leaned back to look up through the trees.

Unbelievable moments passed before I traipsed to the house for a pillow and a refill on my coffee. This time, I brought along a camera. The trees were alive, despite the near naked limbs. I counted three huge nests of squirrels (which explains the frantic search for acorns), and at least four chubby squirrels trapezing across vast regions of elm and sweetgum. Wing’eds eclipsed the blue more than once, including a hawk with a breast the color of warm vanilla, and one or two angry starlings (aren’t they all).

The wind continued to move my bed; as the sounds of immortality raked against yesterday’s leaves. Shadows rolled in and sometime over the afternoon, the book fell to the ground.