Last September Weekend....

     You can tell it's almost October. Spencer is a lot heavier with his winter coat coming in.
                                                           Great for lifting weights.

                    Green leaves  will turn to rust.

                       Sunrises more pink, more candyish.

                        And other cats from the neighbourhood come to stare at little birds.
                                                           (Goldy included)

                                       It's colder at the ocean. The grass is brown and taut.

                               Soon, the birdbath that Smokey loves so much, will be frozen over.
                              Maybe not, since the experts promise this to be a mild winter.

                                 Time to wear  cozy hats. Like the one Bo is modelling.
                                                      She looks so pleased....

                              "Something told the wild geese it was time to go. ....."
                         

                                  "Though the fields lay golden....."

                                      "Something whispered.....'snow'...."

                                              "Leaves were green and stirring...."

                                            "Berries, luster-glossed...."

                                          "But beneath warm feathers......"

                                             "Something cautioned....'frost'......"

                                           "All the sagging orchards......."

                                               "Steamed with amber spice..."

                                            "But each wild breast stiffened at remembered ice...."

                                       "Something told the wild geese......"

                                      "It was time to fly......Summer on their wing, winter in their cry."

                             
                            (POEM: Something Told the Wild Geese, by Rachel Field 1894-1942.
                          American fiction writer, and children's fiction award winning writer)

Spencer's Fall Day

                                    A fall morning dawned crisp and beautiful.

                                 Spencer sat in his pot and wondered what he should do today.

                                           The leaves of the cherry tree were just turning. Fall.

                                               Cordelia peeked thru the fence to see if the coast was clear.

                                  The Cornus Kousa fruit, of the dogwood , was ripe and bursting.

                                And Smokey scrunched  in his bun pose. Watching for snakes and crickets.

                                     What should he do? Wondered Spencer.

                                      There were books sitting on the bench he liked to sit on.

                                                 Spencer drank out of his yellow cup.

                                          Goldy peered out from the bird bath.

                                         While Cordelia hung from the fence and hummed to herself.

                                            "I'm so pretty, I'm so pretty....."

                                            Smokey was still napping by early afternoon.

                                   Spencer decided visit  the greenhouse roof. It was way up high.

                                         He liked being up high.

                                             He could survey his kingdom....

                                                 And peer over the edge.....

                                               And snooze over the edge.

                                      He could hear Cordelia: " I'm so pretty, I'm so pretty."

                                          And look down . Way down. Far.

                                           Smokey woke up  and was sitting on the gate.

                                 Cordelia stopped humming to herself and sat on the fence.

                                    It was getting late in the day. Spencer could see Goldy on the hill.

                                      The roof was lovely.  He could see everything.

                                        Spencer felt like rubbing his whiskers.

                                  Then he fell asleep. He dreamed of chasing butterflies in the summer.

                                        When he came down he sat and thought some more.
                                              What should he do now? It was the end of the day.

                              He returned to the chair on the porch. The chair left especially for him.

                                        He sighed. The sunset was lovely. Crickets chirped.
                                                          What a purrrrfect fall day.