....winter arrived. Sun rise over the Talkeetnas and the porch umbrella still on guard. At least the dogs are smart enough to stay inside.
"It's the widow now that own that angry plow
The spartan mule and the crippled cow
The fallow field that will yield no more
As the fox lay sleeping beneath her kitchen floor.
The winter birds have gone back again
Here the sprightly chickadee, gone now the willow wren.
In passing greet each other as if old, old friends
And to the voiceless trees it is their own they will lend.
Though all these things will change
The memories will remain
As green to gold and gold to brown
The leaves will fall to feed the ground
And in their falling make no sound
The days grow short as the nights grow long
The kettle sings its tortured songs
A many petaled kiss I place upon her brow
Oh my lady, lady I am loving you now. "
All that's left to do at a time like this? Go have dinner with friends in Talkeetna at Mountain High Pizza Pie. Our thank you to Minister DeeDee. She's for hire, by the way, for weddings and funerals in the state of Missouri.
Mike and DeeDee, full of zee Calzone:
Mike says that if Denali has a "cap" of clouds, winds are at least 100mph at the peak. Brrr.
Husband and wife, getting ready for the cold winter ahead. Time to strap on that sled, babe.
(Thanks for the song, Ray)