"Delicious autumn. My very soul is wedded to it. If I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking successive autumns." George Eliot
Last Saturday, after a week of heavy winds that huffed and puffed and blew our town down, and relentless raining swelled our creeks, flooded our streets, and turned roads into rivers where fish swam upstreet, the sun came out. Did a little dance with the bruised and burdened clouds and posed with the trees for me to take these pictures.
It was about here when I got a call from my daughter informing me of the timing, duration and intensity of her contractions, which she surmised was pre-labor. By Monday morning at 4:30 she had delivered their son, my first grandchild.
So far away and I'm still not there with them. In a few days, I will be joining them. In the meantime, I thank the fall, season of all seasons, for biding this weighted wait with me.