The rain is falling hard. The earth quenching its thirst. Today the last bit of warmth was squeezed out of the season. . .one final drop of warmth before the cold temperature creeps in like a hungry beast. Our woodshed is stocked for the winter - in the coming days we will start the wood fire which will burn through the winter, and into the early spring of next year.

Tonight I've opened the windows to hear the rain and feel the last bit of warmth dissipate as the night overtakes. The house is quiet, the lights down low. It's an evening of reflection.