Doves fly across the horizon as I walk to the edge of our land.
I count 12 sitting on the telephone line.
A few grasshoppers jump across my path, where this summer there were millions.
I step on the ones that I can.
Patches of yellow across my view, leaves turning in the Autumn cool.
Nothing but weeds but pretty to look at. The colors are vivid and stark.
My garden is still green, still healthy and producing a harvest of food.
It’s been a good year and land has been kind, to give up so much so far.
As the sun starts to set I linger outside. I don’t want to leave the land.
But it is getting cold and it’s almost dinnertime.
Another night to sleep and renew.
To then start another day on our land.