Still Walking

I am still walking most mornings.  It is a bit more challenging these days as the sun is sleeping in later than I am.  There are no streetlights out here so it is quite dark.  This morning I left with a flashlight in my hand just in case I needed it.  I turned it on as I started out just because I didn't want to startle or be startled by anything. 
But I quickly turned it off.  It felt like an intrusion.  It's the same reason I don't listen to music on these walks.  When I began walking this spring, the world was full of the birds' songs at first light.  Now, they are not singing so much.  In fact, it has become almost a rare sound. 
Likewise, the frogs peeping at night in the spring has been replaced by the songs of the crickets.  Sweetheart and I and Martin (Chuzzlewit) relaxed in the hammocks last night under the twinkle light in the orchard after the kiddos were in bed.  There was a gentle breeze and the crickets serranaded us sweetly.  There was the occasional thud of an early apple falling. 
I had the boys collect up all the fallen apples yesterday morning.  There are several kinds of apples here with one tree already ripe.  I steam juiced a batch and have the dehydrator making apple chips as I type.  I fact, I've already got my morning batch of plums picked and juicing away, a basketful of mint picked, and the first ripe cucumber awaiting lunchtime.  There's breakfast baking in the oven, too. 
I took a shorter walk this morning so that I could get all these things done before everyone else is up.  And, now as they are all still sleeping, I am writing to you all.
As I started to write before, it is still quite dark out when I begin my walks these days.  At first there are only shadows and dark shapes that I can only identify because I walk these roads so much.  Gradually, my steps become more sure and I am able to pick out more of what is in the shadows.  Usually, my only company are the deer walking along. 
I hear rustling in the bushes at grasses at my feet, but I keep walking.  One morning I stopped to discover who the rustler was only to watch a lovely furry black and white creature emerged from the brush.  Not wanting to startle the dear (!), I backed up and got away as quickly as possible.  Now I don't wait to see who's there.
On one part of this morning's walk I was walking back towards the sunrise.  The sky was a pale, pale pink.  There was a dead locust tree, its branches a stark sillohuette against the early glow. Every branch was so distinct.  A bit further up the road I passed an evergreen tree.  It was as though every needle were outlined and a tree I've passed many times suddenly appeared as a work of art.  Its lines so different than the locust tree, but each was simply startling in its beauty.
I wish you could have seen it.
I turned the corner back towards home, thinking of all I wanted to get going on before the day's crushing heat sets in.  I picked two blackberries from a neighbor's bush, a morning tradition she doesn't mind, and found myself back passing the barn the chickens and rooster still quietly sleeping.
I picked the plums and starting them to juice, turned on the dehydrator for the apples, and grabbed another basket for the mint.  I came back in after the mint was picked and took my camera out to the garden.  The only upside to all the fires around here is that it makes for a lovely sunrise and sunset, and diffuses the light in a lovely way for pictures.  The sunflower above is the first to bloom in the kids' garden.  They will be so happy to see it.  I took more pictures that I share over the next few days.
I came back in to the smells of mint, coffee, apples, plums and sausages baking.  I think Autumn may be on its way!
Now, I hear the pitter patter (hah!) of little feet upstairs and know it is time to go.  I hope you all have a lovely day.