No matter how hard I wish that fall hadn’t already arrived, the truth is that it is here.

Even if I can argue away the chill in the air at night, the ever present morning mist cannot be denied. Each morning the details of the changing leaves and the declining garden are blurred by mist and fog.

The fields are obscured and the hens almost hidden.

The neighbors’ pastures shrouded in the quiet of morning.

Fall is here and now we can only hope that the squash, pumpkins, corn and tomatoes beat the frost. The race is on.