The trees are turning to rust and red, and the winds are putting a chill in the autumn air.  The Native Americans have an old story about the bear that dances in the night sky.  At this time of year the bear (ursa major) is lying on its back.  The old story goes that the hunters who chase the bear around the pole star all year finally catch up and slay the bear.  Before the cycle begins again it is said that the bear’s blood spills across the land and can be seen in the trees  as it pours its way through the forests.  It is a story that reveals that as things come to an end it can become a thing of beauty.  Change is inevitable but the cycle is always moving and the bear will continue to turn around the world.

September sunseptember sun by Kristín Sig

The lovely Sharon and I have moved house.  We don’t understand how it is possible for some people to move every few years.  Maybe it is a process that requires practice to become efficient at, but I’m not interested in finding that out.  We have moved to somewhere with a little bit extra space.  We have already begun the process of filling this space.

It is hoped that these little layers will supply a steady stream of eggs and the new range will bake bread for the toasted soldiers that go with the eggs.  I hope to build a little run for them to stretch out their legs.  But, right now the priority is the building and painting of shelves to get some of the waiting boxes unpacked.  And our new garden seems to be packed with an array of bewildering vegetables.  It is a bit of a puzzle to definintly make sure that these are indeed the cardoons and Jerusalem artichokes that we believe they are.  And the trees are heavy with plums and damsons that would waste if they weren’t preserved.  These things are all a wonderful excuse to get friends and family to visit.  We can pretend that we need them to be busy; the reality is that we simply need them.

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