(no subject)

You may like your rewengie bloody, or you may like it bleak, but sitting here with this late evening salmon pate and ruby port, I will take my rewengie by way of living well, thank you very much.

Also

I wonder sometimes how people cope with living in places like Tuscany, or the Amalfi coast. Surely they cannot stand around slack-jawed all the time saying "by god, this is beautiful" - and yet how terrible it would be to grow so used to it that you barely notice the beauty around you. Maybe the awareness of natural splendor is a constant pleasing background noise to daily life. I don't know.

But I often forget that, for one month a year, this place becomes one of the most beautiful places in the world. In fact, I don't really think about autumn until it is upon us, when the suddenness of its beauty catches me entirely off guard and I stand around staring at roadsides and out of windows where everything has exploded into its fleeting moment of wonder like a very slow fireworks display.

I thought that time was winding down, but this week the Japanese Maple in the back yard lightened slightly, and dropped thousands of scarlet leaves that completely covered the grass. The dogs loved it, too, but for different reasons.

So I guess that's the last autumnal shell to detonate. Probably...