Alan and I went to church today, way out in Freysbush, at St. John’s Lutheran, where we always feel welcome and at home. We came away feeling refreshed and rejuvenated and all new, which seems to be the way it always is when we find the time and energy to go there to worship. I have attended many churches over the years of my life, but never, ever felt like I belonged until St. John’s. We don’t go very often. There are many excuses. It is twenty miles or more away; Sunday is the only time I get any time that is really my own, etc. etc. However, I am always very glad when I do work up the gumption. I have to thank Alan for asking me to take him.

The trip in both directions made it clear that the seasons are about to change. Apples hang heavy on the trees, goldenrod nods in full flower in abandoned hay fields. Just a scattering of trees are turning pale yellow or dark, maroon-ish red on a few outer branches and there are pumpkins to be bought at roadside stands. We saw dozens of blue jays and one large turkey vulture as we drove along. The vulture was sitting on a dead elm branch, holding its dusty black wings aloft like a tattered umbrella, warming up before it tried to fly. Where there was still corn in the fields the outer and lower leaves have turned yellow and tan and the ears have tilted outward for easy picking. It is easy to see that harvest time is here.

There is yet another chapter in the story of the water garden snake. After I tossed him over the bank we thought the pond frogs would be safe for a while. However, a mere three days later he was neck-deep in the water and frogs were scattered all over the lawn, heading for the high country. This time Becky took action. She grabbed him by his snaky neck, took him all the way down the long, steep house driveway, across the road and the guard rails and tossed him over the bike path.
Take that snake! Let’s see if he makes it back this time.