Seasonal Confusions

Morning can be 'I do NOT want to get out of bed, I don't care how much you paw paw my leg and chest with barely sheathed claws, cats' cold and by afternoon, put on shorts (ok, I haven't put shorts back on yet, but I could, if I wasn't such a cold weather wussy - hey when will I wear a heavy sweater again?) warm with night tempting me to start a fire but blankets being more immediate.

No matter how much the sunny afternoon tries to fake me out, the coloring is on the tree, Fall is here. The Equinox is two days behind us. And while at home, I wouldn't be surprised to see new leaves crowding old ones, because Fall is Spring and Spring is Fall, here, being the American that I am, even if I grew up in Florida, Fall means leaves turning colors, the smell of cursing rakers in the air, pumpkins on porches and dreams of costumery and candy filling the heads of marketing executives.


Fall, in this part of Michigan, is on the move.

These are not pumpkins. I don't know what it means but yard art is yard art.

I thought this was a park. Mackey wanted it to be a park. The no trespassing signs indicate that it is a huge yard belonging to the house to the right of the photo. Pretty gazing, though.

Fall and football go together like rice and beans

Are these crabapples?

Empty railroad tracks are becoming a favorite

The old and the new

Again

Rebel geese taking a secret meeting conspiring to fly North. Wacky kids.

Today is the day we're going into the not pretty part of the cityside. I'd go by myself, but since there are parts in the city that are, I've been told, not where I should go by myself, it will be good to go with someone who has strong local knowledge. I have no interest on being featured on the six o'clock news as a stupid tourist.

Maybe I should go rub their bellies. 

Have a trust and take care Tuesday. Do something titillating.

p.s. I have no doubt there are tiny houses around here. They are still hiding from me.