the leaves are worn and tattered, but they are still here, like an old blanket, patches of season, still useful, keeping the earth warm.
and she, remember her?, she has fallen over, hollow in spots, she is tired. resting in leaves, maybe posing. maybe.
a squirrel friend has found the basket of unused walnuts. he ate the nuts, but left the husks nearby. a reminder that in a small and careful world, we work together and there is enough to go around isn't there ? i have a little bag of leftovers for him for when the snow comes. i will know him. he will be the one with the brown hands.