There is nothing like the crisp, sunny autumn days where feelings of summer continue to lurk in our subconscious. Cold nights are followed by warm days. The light hint of gold in the trees lures us to wonderful paths that wind up the mountainside providing superb views over the expanse of forests to the peaks beyond. It's hard to not cherish the near deserted beaches and the clear blue skies.
That describes most of September...summer hardly around the corner. In fact, scarcely two weeks ago daytime temperatures reached almost 30 C. During that time I was busy collecting and stashing like that greedy, chatty squirrel in my parents back yard. I pillaged my father's garden, at his request, of course. Mainly, I harvested a large portion of the remaining basil. Nothing quite like the sweet aroma of a large bouquet of basal in the kitchen. Most of it went into a few batches of pesto that are now in my freezer.
Now on the eve of October, it feels more like November. This morning the mountain tops were lightly dusted with the white stuff. Since then it's been dreary and wet. I'd rather sit in front of the fire wrapped in my quilt, drinking cocoa and reading a good novel than even slightly peek my nose out of doors. I still have a few vegetable in my own garden which should be brought in soon. Of course I'd like to think that I'm still going to have a sunny day or two over the next few weeks to complete some of those outdoor chores.