The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.
-Emily Dickinson
Found the prickly pears shining in purple after the last rain.
This poem inspired me to realize that my recent desire for a lovely red (&blue or purple or yellow or orange) plaid wool scarf is just my need to counteract the fading color all around me.
...Also, one disadvantage to heating a house by wood stove is burning your finger, while still groggy early in the morning, by touching the inside of the stove when trying to perfectly place in a new a log.
Last night we ate chicken/red chile sauce tacos. And I baked this applesauce cake, which is delicious (earthy, light & spicy), even without the caramel glaze (I just did a simple sugar glaze, poured all over the cake while still warm).
Great pic of the purple prickly pear, properly poetic in it's own prominence.
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