Blustery Winds
There's a natural salad out my dining room window, thrown together by the wild winds whipping around the house. Blue fescue pots have leaves in their hair. The "bird berries" wave in masses, clinging to their stems as their leaves die off.
The hydrangeas turn their final deep shades of violet before the frosts come to coat them.
Inside, my fetish with houses builds up and feverish fingers make a mini village. Stirrings of Christmasy castles lurk in the background. I have yet to find a perfect gingerbread castle pattern. This year I'll just have to create a huge one myself...
