Under the owl's hoot

There's an owl in the distance this morning. Occasionally a car in the distance drowns it out. While the owl is a fierce bird, the hooting is rather methodical and soft. The sun has not yet made its way across the horizon line that separates the water from the sky.
And now, the owl has a reply to his morning lecture - a mate perhaps in another tree alerting or confirming another presence. It's amazing to listen to them over the roar of the morning commute that takes place on the highway across the river from our house.
Soon it will be too cold to be out on the porch blogging at 6:30 a.m. My computer will screech from the cold and beg to be placed in the warmth of our house.
There are more vegetables to be harvested, and time is running short. The tomatoes have all but stopped growing, turning red slowly these short not-so-warm days.
More and more geese are flying low over the house. The turkeys are growing quickly into young adults and the fawns have lost their spots. There is a pink along that horizon and soon the sun will outshine the lovely stars and planets that are brighter now in the clear cold air. Last night's rain left everything smelling fresh, cold and fresh.
It would surely be a good day to bake an apple cake. It's that time of the year. I'm hoping to get that eggplant video done this weekend even though the eggplant had best be brought indoors.
Time to go to work... It will be a beautiful day.