It’s that time of year again.

 September.

I know it’s that time of year again because the Bamboo Chimes, hanging on the Maple Tree branch a-moment outside my kitchen window, whisper: ‘She’s arrived…’, and a shiver washes over me like the wave of a cold ocean breeze.

September. Where our mellow sit-on-the-beach days fade into the fragrance of burning leaves and wood smoke; mist covered mountains; fading Dahlias, and air so crisp you can taste the ocean’s salt.

King Winter, through his trusty servant Jack Frost, sends word that preparations must be hurried along if we are to be ready for his arrival.

I better scurry
 ~