October 13: Cathedral Woods

No sunlight down here.

The only sounds: distant sea

and our footsteps.

Posted with Blogsy

October 12: Back to Monhegan

The same trees, red now.

The same sea, breathing

a cold autumn song.

 

Posted with Blogsy

October 11: Just before sunset, then sunset

Looking out the back window this evening as the sun sinks lower: first, a placid-looking tabby cat, not ours, just sitting there at the edge of the grass for a long time, looking toward the house; still there; still there; still there; then, sky aglow with sunset's hot pinks and oranges. Then, of course, darkness. That always comes.

Strange cat sits calmly
at our lawn's edge, stalks away.
Then, blazing sky.

October 10: Zugunruhe

Gotta love those German compound nouns: Zug (move, migration) + Unruhe (restlessness, anxiety) = the urge to migrate, used most often in reference to birds.

Sparrows in the fields.
Just made my reservations
for this weekend's trip.

October 9: Office work

Crow caws sound like laughter.
I'm stuck inside
on a perfect fall day.

October 8: Direction

Stepped out last night to see if the aurora borealis visible in northern Maine was visible here. 

New moon moving west

all afternoon, and now

Big Dipper points north.

October 7: Postseason

As the autumn leaves glow dimly through the mist in the dying light of this October evening, the Red Sox third playoff game vs. the Tampa Bay Rays in a five-game ALDS series has just gotten underway.

Bottom of the first.
Spaghetti sauce simmers
while I knit, anxiously.