10.20.14  I have taken 500,000+ photos of the sunset from my house.  You would think I might tire of grabbing my camera during dinner preparations and rushing outside to catch the colors.  But I don’t.  Nor do I tire of photos across my dining room table with the low sun splashing light on whatever floral arrangement is sitting there, or the way the wood floors glow golden, and the oriental rugs turn rich ruby-red, when evening sunlight briefly spreads across the living room.  It’s over in a few minutes and I don’t know that there has been anything more important in my life in those moments than to just stop and watch.

I say it all the time, but THIS was truly the last golden day of October.  Our local NPR music program started its morning show with a rendition of that old song, “Autumn Leaves” and every song thereafter had the word “golden” in the lyrics.  I kayaked in the afternoon on the crystal clear, mirror-surfaced lake, and soaked in the gold and red foliage reflected in the water close to shore–where I stayed, knowing it would be a very cold swim if I tipped over.  What a grand, grand day!

A new cold front from the north is due here tonight.  Rain is in the forecast for days ahead and the high temperatures in the future will most certainly not reach where they were today.  A canopy of gold and red still drapes over the streets in town, but the yards are ankle-deep now in leaves, and rakes are leaning against front doors.   I remember the third week-end in October, 1997, our first Fall in Montana, when we lived on Fifth Avenue East.  That Sunday was a brilliantly clear day and the golden leaves dazzled against the blue sky.  Late in the morning, a strong wind came up and we saw leaves flying out the window.  We rushed outside and actually heard millions and millions of yellow maple leaves fall from the trees, all down the street, as we stood in the middle of what felt like a snow globe with golden glitter.  It can change just that fast.