Paul stays here when he comes to the lake to fish. When I come with him, sometimes I go out on the water but other times I stay in the cabin to enjoy the silence and the non-ringing of the phone. Today the deck is covered with gold and rust-colored leaves. The day is mild and sunny, but while I'm working at my portable computer on the kitchen table, I stop to listen to a sound like rain. It's the leaves, raining down on gusts of wind.
Tiny acorns pop like hail stones on the metal roof of the boat shed.
I go to stand at the bay window and watch the sky fill with leaves as high and far away as I can see. Because of their asymmetrical shapes, some catch the wind and cavort like courting butterflies, sailing for long distances before they float to the ground. It's early morning, still a bit nippy outdoors for this cold-weather sissy, but I hold out the promise of a walk as a reward, when the sun gets higher and my work is finished. Yesterday, I worked my way through the last chapters of the book manuscript. The revisions are nearly finished, except for some final tweaking of two new scenes and re-formatting the text to meet the publisher's specs.