I love how the light is changing in the seasons. The later the year, the lower the position of the sun and the more the sun comes actually into the rooms of our home. Everyday the leaves of our birches turn a little more yellow, and soon no leaf will be left on the fine black branches. My dear old neighbor lady passed away. I can feel her presence with me since. As always there is so much I would like to say, but my words are stuck. I wonder if that knot is ever loosening.