Crisp air.
Clear, star filled skies.
A crunchy carpet beneath the feet.
A feast of color for the eyes.
The smell of fire embedded in the fibers of my clothes.
Soups.
Pies.
…a wee nip or two of whiskey.
My favorite time of year…
…when anything and everything seem possible.
Good things happen in October.
Throwing out my anchor.
Pulling up a chair.
Staying here awhile.
