My dog and I sat on the deck today, watching hefty breezes pulling leaves from off the trees.The leaves fell brightly all around, fluttering and then descending to my gardens, like butterflies that somehow had forgotten to leave for warmer places when our nights turned cold.
My dog was captivated. "That's the closest we can come to having butterflies in our northeast Ohio at this time of year," I told him.
He looked up at me and raised his ears and listened, as if he understood what I was telling him.
And perhaps he did.
And perhaps he did.
