Fall Morning

I'd planned to work on a writing project - a little family history book, From Anna Maria to Zea Lilliana, - while wife and doggies were still snoozing cozily and quietly on this chilly fall morning. But my eyes kept drifting to the window framing a view of the garden, where the trees have been becoming more brilliant every day. Finally, when a shaft of sunlight illuminated the trunk of the canyon live oak, its branches stretching into the blue sky, I had to put the camera to work.

I'd intended one shot through the window, then back to work, but the morning pulled me outside to stumble around the damp pathways enjoying the miraculous way the leaves played with the sunlight.

Our garden is built on bones of stone and wood in a design esthetic that mixes Japanese with Arts and Crafts. There's also a touch of the Japanese esthetic of wabi sabi that celebrates aging natural materials and the passage of time. But mostly it is a bunch of plants pretty much left to their own devices.

And just so my Typospherian friends don't despair, here is my beloved Royal 10, which has been

living a life of luxury ever since I rescued it from a neighbor's trash can back in about 1967. Lately it has been busy in the sunshine out on the balcony, where it has been helping me keep up my Postcrossing activity. Its compact elite typeface is perfect for slapping messages onto postcards.

So much for this morning's writing project. Now it's time to roust out the snoozers, bring the place to life, and get on with our fall project of painting our bedroom and nailing down a new floor of solid, 3/4-inch red oak. Hilda has promised a crock pot stew to warm our bellies and refresh our souls after a day of home improvement yoga moves - bending, lifting, twisting, etc.

Onward.