Herding Cat

Indian summer has swept luxuriantly all over the llano like too much butter. And like overly-buttered toast, it's heaven.

How now, fake-summer cow?

There's little else to do with weather this perfect than go for long autumn walks over fields and through the bosque, contemplating life, the universe, and everything.

Since I'm now surrounded by them, I'm trying to rekindle my childhood ability to relate to animals. So far I've instigated communication failures with Ginger Cat, hornets, cows, wild turkeys, and small children. I'm sure there will be more creatures to add to the list next week.

It's so lovely outside that I forgot to remember the fifth of November till just now. My apologies to the drawn and quartered ghost of Guy Fawkes.  I nearly managed to forget election day too.

Unlike me, the vultures ain't fooled by fake summer. They disappeared weeks ago, and will only return after the last wisp of pinion smoke fades. Till then, it's me and the creatures up against the winter. So I guess we'd all better learn to play nice.