Sitting by the camp fire yesterday evening I noticed golden glowing sparkles coming from the long damp October grass. It was the quick time between the last few minutes of day and the launch of night when your eyes can get confused. At first I thought it was broken shards of beer bottle glass or mower chewed tin foil. Upon closer inspection, I found out the glimmering twinkles were dying lightning bugs. Thousands of ‘em lying in moist green graves. Weird. I had never witnessed this event before. Not enough life left to fly; barely enough to glow. All day long yesterday the yellow jackets were terribly aggressive. I guess they were looking for one last sting. Godzilla big spiders have been trying to take up winter residence inside along with assorted bugs I can’t identify. I usually lift the dust pan to eye level and inspect the deceased corpses. They seem to make it inside and then die. Maybe they use all their remaining life to break in. Come to think of it I am sitting in a big pine box with windows. A big bug casket. Now I have that image crawling in my mind. Ugh!

Fall is upon us. Summer’s living jungle greens have given birth to autumn’s dying burnt sienna browns. Yesterday, a walk through the October forest or a long country drive would have filled your note pad or voice recorder full of prompts about……………