My eyes began to close on me last night, as I was sitting outside with my brother, chiminea in full force. Shaggy on my lap. That’s the outdoor cat. Notice I specified outdoor. Because there’s two who are full time live-in residents. Plus one dog. I know, I know, I have a weak spot for all small creatures.

Really I should come up with a better name for him than Shaggy. I have a high precedence bar set of excellent animal names and take name giving very seriously. Yet every time I attempt to change it, I still come right back around to Shaggy, aka Shags —  he was quite the neighborhood casanova before I got him fixed. Not that I’m trying to insinuate anything.

Anyway, back to where I was … eyes closing on me, sitting outside in front of the warm fire, the coolness of the night air. The soft glow of the post full by one day moon. I easily felt transported. Back to Avignon, or Up North … I could have been anywhere. It was rather startling to realize I was just merely in the backyard. That is what’s so great about nights like this, that transportative effect.

I kept thinking how it felt like Fall, that I could feel Fall coming. It was an energizing thought. The changing of the seasons is such a great time … you can feel the subtle shifts and changes that the earth is radiating. When I awoke this morning to more coolness and that crisp, fresh smell, I was half surprised not to see orange leaves falling off trees.