As I begin the first few chapters of my fifth book, I find it difficult to concentrate. When the weather gets cold and snowy, my office is where I practically live, but when the crispness of the autumn air, the impossibly blue sky, and the multitude of brilliantly colored leaves taunt me from my office window, I just have to give in and get outside. There will be plenty of time yet to write.
This has turned into an especially brilliant year, attributing to the rather large quantities of rain throughout the summer. Berries are plump and plentiful.
And the usual maladies of blight on the leaves isn't so apparent.
The blueberry barrens, which are seen everywhere around this peninsula, are turning crimson, cranberry, vermillion and every other shade of red the eye can discern.
The coast comes alive with golden oaks, and vivid maples, mixed with the dark greens of the spruce. As the air becomes colder than the water, the vapor rises from the sea in fingers.
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Then there's that one single tree that screams its brazen color, saying, "Look at me!"
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Finally, the hardy asters chill under frosty nights, but continue blooming strong into November, adding to the colorful scenes.
So, dinna fret, the season is short and I'll be back in front of my computer very soon. Until then, when the weather's fine, I'll be taking advantage of the last of the season's beauty.