A tree in my front yard is beginning to drop its wine-colored foliage.
The birch leaves, way up high, are starting to turn yellow . . .
. . . while the ground cover, way down low, is reddening.
I could see my breath as I walked. September. Wet, cold weather . . .
. . . warm, cuddly house.
Dinner last night: sweet and sour shortribs, fried rice