We were surprised to note mostly bare trees on the way to Roscoe, earlier today. Audible groan, here. Sure, closer to home it was pretty; but 'twas not blazingly gorgeous, like other years. Weathermen have commented that the drought of spring and summer is responsible for less brilliant color and early loss of foliage.
It is said that there is a fine line between love and hate - herein lies my relationship with Autumn. While my artistic side adores Mother Nature's palette, beachy me is despising the impending nakedness of the landscape and threat of cold weather. For today, though, I can dream.
