This must be that fabled rare season, because what a gorgeous day. Warm wind from the southwest. I wanted to be out walking but waited for Everett to get off the bus at four o'clock so we could stroll together with the hounds over to Golden Grain Farm, which is a couple miles by the time we're home again. The geese are flocking and flying and honking against the sky, the swathers and combines are in the fields, and the hay bales above wait to be picked up and hauled to the farmyard for this winter's feed.