Moving Redux---Recharging

Moving is wearisome business. Especially for an old man like me, toting those boxes and lifting those bales is tiring but the midnight worries are even worse.  In the condo, is the painter going to be done in time for the carpet man to do his thing before the movers arrive with our furniture and household goods? In the old house, Patching walls where pictures hung, getting the last of the furniture and such out and coordinating the cleaning team give plenty of grist for midnight thought.

In a protected corner we saw the last of this year's roses.

This morning was beautiful with the bright sun peeking through departing storm clouds so Kuro and I decided to take an early walk, commune with Mother Earth and recharge our (my) batteries.

Kuro doesn't need his batteries recharged. The  mere sight of his leash in my hand has him dancing a jig and waiting impatiently to get out the door.

The early morning rain was still on the grass. Kuro got soaked
from mid-belly down and my feet got wet.

Here in Seattle, it's just a little early for good fall colors but we found a few reds, yellows and golds.

We came across hydrangeas in shades from blue to bronzed purple. I've read about how soil acidity affects the colors of the hydrangea but I wonder if the sun exposure might also make a difference in blossom color.

It's almost Halloween. This little guy will make a perfect Jack O'Lantern

In a secluded area we came across a small tree in the cedar family that had an emerald jacket.

Watching moss grow is restful and brings peace to the soul.

The old timers say Mountain Ash and snow berries foretell the severity of the coming winter. We didn't happen upon any Mountain Ash but I wonder if these snow berries are harbingers of cold and misery in our part of the country?

In a nearby park there is a big old poplar that serves as a message board for local dogs.

Old man poplar attracts passing dogs. He seems to say, "Come smell the latest news."

We had a refreshing and invigorating walk but it was time to head back home. As I opened the garage door a single leaf blew in to rest on the concrete floor. It seemed to be soaking up a last measure of sunlight before it was placed in the compost bin to complete life's cycle and nourish life anew next spring.