Today is Sunday. Looking out the window I saw gold leaves that needed to be photographed. I went out into the November Michigan air, which was dark, chilly, damp and about to snow.
I heard my pal Bishop meow.
She can cuddle with leaves all she wants, that's fine with me.
"Isn't this a pretty leaf on my paw, Ma?" (below - Thank you to Mary for template help, and how to make photos bigger here. Yippee!)
Today it wasn't too long before Bishop and I were lying on the damp ground together, and she was nuzzled up inside my coat. We had a good, long relaxing November pause in the leafy grass. We almost fell asleep.
In spring 2004, when she was a kitten, I had to close her up in the garage while I planted seedlings, because she wanted to cuddle with me and the plants. She'd paw those tender little seedlings like they were the most fun toys ever. Especially herbs, which no doubt had some relation to catnip. She wanted to tear them apart in an orgiastic frenzy. I'd get so aggravated that I'd grab her, put her in the garage and not so gently close the door.
She can cuddle with leaves all she wants, that's fine with me.
"Isn't this a pretty leaf on my paw, Ma?" (below - Thank you to Mary for template help, and how to make photos bigger here. Yippee!)
Today it wasn't too long before Bishop and I were lying on the damp ground together, and she was nuzzled up inside my coat. We had a good, long relaxing November pause in the leafy grass. We almost fell asleep.
An hour later it was snowing. Which brings to mind this poem:
Leaves
How silently they tumble down
And come to rest upon the ground
To lay a carpet, rich and rare,
Beneath the trees without a care,
Content to sleep, their work well done,
Colors gleaming in the sun.
At other times, they wildly fly
Until they nearly reach the sky.
Twisting, turning through the air
Till all the trees stand stark and bare.
Exhausted, drop to earth below
To wait, like children, for the snow.
- Elsie N. Brady
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