Dear Friends, our landscape gives us a deal of fun at this time of year. No longer beige and brown, no longer the cheerful austerity of what I think of as “God’s bones.” but grass and more grass to the extent of our wondering whether Abel can keep up with it and give us defensive space before he has to come to an end of his summer work.
We do not have the seasons of the East, but our very own variety of change. If only the peace of our fields and mountains could invade and possess all the human hearts in the world…
I will try to find the photo of our ravens–to which there is very little to compare in the line of comedy and animal friendship.
