One tree nearby has taken on its autumn colors. I see the red leaves beyond the sombre green of the pines over my back fence. They brighten the gray afternoon, but vanish by night. The night is starless as well, but the clouds have no moon to conceal. It's a night for smelling rather than seeing, and the damp left by the recent rains has saturated earth and lawn and fallen leaves, filling the cool air with their scent. Amid this dankness, there is one strange note. The gardenia has produced a handful of new blossoms out of season, adding a sharp sweetness to autumn's musty earthiness.
Well, kitty trying to nap on my keyboard. Everybody's a critic.