Late afternoon on Nov. 1, All Saints Day.
It’s been cloudy all day, no rain.
I’m sitting on an old towel that I laid on the labyrinth path outside my office door.
From out of the woods I hear the croaks of tree frogs. Kinglets twitter and flutter above and on all sides of me. Faintly in the distance, the sound of automobile traffic.
Thanks to the autumn wind, the labyrinth path is newly surfaced with plum leaves, cedar fronds, and fir needles.
Small puff balls have sprung up all along the way.