The cherry trees are now orange and red.
The volcanoes are white and shiny again.
The garden has been plundered.
The potatoes have been been dug up...
...and set out to dry for winter storage.
And the autumnal lamb has been slaughtered. He tasted mighty good too with rosemary and garlic.
Lulu, the bashful cow.
She may as well be shy. Last week there were three cows, but Big Bubba, however, went to meet the hook and the hammer (so to speak) a few days back. Such is the way of the world between omnivores and grazers.
A monkey puzzle tree. Personally, I don't think that there is any puzzle to it.
"Monkeys, do not touch that tree!It's nothing but a patchwork of wood-edged razors, and there is no safe way to put a hand on it!"
Deer season opened this weekend, so the hills were swarming with florescent-orange hunters. The salmon run was on as well. At the mouth of every tributary, where the lesser rivers joined the Columbia, small fleets of private fishing boats were anchored.
But the Klickitat Indians, however, were absent.
Their traditional platforms were unmanned, and their long-handled nets lay idle on the ground. That's just as well, because the salmon seemed to be missing as well.
Up in the high country
Mt. Adams hides its lumpish head in the clouds
The name - of it - is "Autumn" -
The hue - of it - is Blood -
An Artery - upon the Hill -
A Vein - along the Road -
It sprinkles Bonnets - far below -
It gathers ruddy Pools -
Then - eddies like a Rose - away -
Upon Vermilion Wheels -