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Nothing Happening
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When I headed out to the grocery this morning it was so quiet I could hear the acorns falling out of the trees. The rustling paper sound of their descent through the leaves, the soft plop as they hit the ground or rattle as they hit roof or deck. Strangely enough I didn't spot any squirrels.

We just finished another week of temperatures in the nineties and near nineties so it's good to see autumn's on the way. The wood asters are whitening the edges of the yard, although not in such profusion as they did a couple years ago. Unlike last year, there's a multitude of pinkish berries on the kousa dogwood in front of the house, even though it barely blossomed in the spring, a change from years when it's produced a gorgeous display. A hard tree to figure out.

In the lawn, emerald green moss has been replacing portions of the weeds that pass for grass when mowed. That's fine with me. The moss goes well with the rocks and ferns. If the day comes when I can retire the lawn mower I won't be displeased.

Watching the seasons change is pretty much the extent of the excitement here. We thrilled to the leafing of the trees in the spring and now we eagerly await their fall.

I guess I wrote this to show why I don't often write about what's happening. Because nothing much is happening, which is not an entirely bad thing.

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