Monday

Sometime in mid August you realize that the summer season is coming to an end. Oh, it'll be hot as hell for a few more weeks, maybe longer. And there are blooms still before us, and we'll eat breakfast on the porch for at least another month, but still, the summer is wrapping up, looking around for suitcases to start packing, because soon it will be time to move on.

We are nearing that time in February, when winter is cresting and small signals begin to appear, telling us that winter is looking for its own suitcases! 

More songbirds in the yard.

More days when the chickens are on the march.

(hey, I already laid my egg in the garage!)

(2 sisters...)

And soon, we'll hear the cranes, returning from their snow bunny days in Alabama. (Read a beautiful piece about their migration in today's paper here!). One of only two crane species native to North America, the sandhill crane, is our Constant Spring and summer companion. Our wetlands are their playground. Our cornfields their dinner party. Poor is an afternoon when we don't see them, rare is the morning when we don't hear their gargled cry. Soon, I can feel it in the air: they're coming home soon.

Breakfast is again with unusual blooms: I had purchased an amaryllis bulb in mid November. Holiday blooms for our family gatherings! Or so I thought. The bulb stayed dormant. Looked dead, to be honest. Still, I watered it weekly, mostly because it was there, on the sill, next to other plants. May as well.

Three months later it sprouts and very quickly produces beautiful flowers! A little late for Christmas, but perfect for Valentine's Day!

And speaking of Valentine's Day, Ed and I finally set out to our favorite local chocolatier for a box of yummy chocolates. Happy Valentine's Day, Ed! Happy Valentine's Day, gorgeous. No new cards this year -- Ed is very big on recycling old ones. Same message after all!

Not too far from the chocolate making place, there is a segment of the Ice Age Trail. We'd never hiked it before, perhaps because it isn't exactly a stunning segment of the trail. Still, it's good enough. Fields and forests and a rapidly encroaching new development to the side.

In the afternoon, I bring Snowdrop to the farmhouse.

Shoes off, socks off (she has her habits!)...

A glance over to see what Ed is up to...

And then we read. The book is a fantastic read-aloud story (actually there are five volumes, so we'll be at it for a while), because there are so many great characters to give voice to, and so we lose ourselves in it for the entire afternoon.

Evening. Time to take her back to her family. Such a beautiful sunset!

And it continues, even after I turn around to drive home.

Can you blame me for pulling over, just to watch?

Each season has its fantastic finale. This one belongs to winter: a grand string of sunsets, one day at a time.

P.S. Here are a few links I found useful for helping those in both Turkey and Syria: Doctors Without Borders, CARE, UNICEF -- targeting Syrian children right now.

With love....