Late fall has her charms.
Some hints of sun will disarm.
Branches raise in joy.
Looking up at the clouds yesterday morning, at first I saw a wishbone.
But from the camera’s view, I now see feathers.
And a late autumn sky.
Returning from a friend’s turkey farm, I was driving by the old Catholic Church in town.
I soon saw three heads staring up at me from the back of a rusty Ford Truck, while I brushed off white feathers from my jacket.
Taking a second glance, I recognized the heads as those of the shiny and smiling plastic wise men back for the annual nativity display.
Apparently the church is getting a head start.
I watched as volunteers placed a huge holly covered sign in the front yard for the annual Christmas Bazaar, too.
But soon I was interrupted by the loud jingle bell ring tone of a phone.
That was my wake up call.
I found myself driving home much faster than normal.
Just in case temps would suddenly drop 40 degrees and it started to snow.
I’m thinking I should save next month’s turkey’s wishbone to put under my feather pillow.
That’ll ensure my dreams of a mild and short winter come true.