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I have been a little remiss about posting here of late–not that anyone besides myself has really noticed–but there really have been good reasons. But I’ve been thinking recently that September is upon us–yes, upon us and almost gone already….

Something I have particularly noticed about this September in Florida is that it sounds different from September in states further north. It even sounds different from August in Florida….

First, there has been a lot of rain…slow, drippy rain, dropping gently without pushing winds…heavy downpours illumined by many bold lightening strikes and shoved around by hearty gusts…soft spatters splashing off the windshield on the way home from grocery shopping…

There have also been a pack of coyotes howling out in “the rough”–yipping, calling, brazen dogs making their presence known in the midnight hour–I shudder at the thought of what wolves would sound like out in the woods and frozen creekbeds on a cutting winter’s day…

And let me not forget the bulls, one black, one white, snorting and shouldering one another around under the light of the cobweb moon, stamping the earth, causing it to rumble under their hooves and up into the walls of the house nearby…

Speaking of the cobweb moon–because the breezes have been rather quiet this month, the spiders–full-grown now, hairy kneed, ugly, and menacing–have strung up their marvelous webbing from eave to ground, ornamented with a large white zigzag upon which they sit as upon a throne of tranny…under every low-hanging oak limb…in the pole barn between the rafters, the rusted-out lawnmower, the rust-colored toolbox, and the now rust-covered come-along…stripy or spiny, brown or black, the mere thought of these arachnids is enough to make my skin crawl…

Swooping through the evening sky, and again lifting up their wings in the sunrise fog, the bubbling call of the sandhill cranes has returned, as these walking shadows have come to grace us with their long-legged presence and strangely beautiful cries once more…

The vicious sawing of the cicadas has quieted down here recently–though I still here them from time to time…soon they will be silenced again…

Kittens–growing up quickly–are learning their mother’s mewing early–little fuzzballs of black and white and grey, children of an old barn cat who has returned to her former home…

The twinkle in my Granddaddy’s eyes is often a prelude to one of his little snorting laughs–or merely that quietly amused shaking of his head–coming every now and again to delight my heart in his once more taking interest in life…

Yes, surely fall is come…and I have much to be thankful for…

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