There hasn't been a bat in the house for weeks

The heat has been on for a while now, but only because sunshine doesn't reach all of the house's insides. Last night, in the woods, three Barred Owls bantered. If you haven't heard such a a thing, you should: listen to it here.  It's haunting.  And in real-life, it echoes deep in your lungs and makes you feel hollow.

Until today, I haven't really considered fall.  I was reluctant, perhaps, to acknowledge that I hadn't really considered summer.  But now we're in full swing.  My pockets are full of acorns.  For weeks I've come home to find the cat curled and tucked into himself on the back of the couch. My sewing machine has replaced my computer on the desktop. There are fabric scraps everywhere.

Yesterday, the starlings started kicking up leaves in the backyard. I will fill the bird feeder again.  I am still afraid of the possum I saw near the compost bin at dusk.  My fridge is stocked with whipping cream and smoked gouda. I've preserved nothing.