Owed to Autumn

I took the dog outside this morning.  Weirdo dog cannot go out alone.  In the fenced in yard.  So I have to accompany him for his toilette.  In my pajamas and slippers.

Anyway, I'm waiting for fraidydog to do his thing, and hear the most wonderful noise.

Birds.  Birds singing and chirping. There were hundreds of chirpy conversations going on.  An ode to autumn.  A song of relief that the insanely hot weather of summer is gone.  A song of gathering and saving for a winter day.  Some calling each other for a last snack before heading south.

And the squirrels, gnawing on the harvest of black walnuts.  They sound like washboard players.  The one's in old bluegrass bands?  They cache most, eat some on the fly.  Their footprints and excavations for walnuts will be the only disturbance in the coming snows until spring. 

The chipmunks busy raiding the bird feeders for their own little storehouses.  Darting back and forth across the yard.  Making little squeaky noises as they gather. 

And the trees sighing to each other in the breeze.  Getting ready to shed their old drab green leaves for winter rest, having done the job of shading the house and the occasional person that braved the heat.  The reds and oranges and yellows are their bedtime kiss to us.  They are relieved to rest and throw roots to the job of gathering strength for spring.  When the bright green leaves will return, full of optimism for a new year.

I tend to hibernate more in summer than winter.  The heat and humidity wear me out.  But, fall is here!  I love the sounds and smells.  The crackling of brown leaves as I walk through them.  The smell of leaves burning in fall is a memory that has never faded.  Even though few do that anymore.  I miss that smell, it marries so well with the crisp air that is fall.  

So, I think I won't mind as much taking the dog outside.  If fact, I may go without as much prompting. 

Just to hear the trees wish me goodnight.