I hurry to the front porch to catch him peeking over the ridge and sending long shafts of light into the valley . . .
Later in the day, I take a little walk. It's two-thirty and soon the sun will have disappeared behind the mountain at our back. But now it's warm in the entry garden and I look for pictures. There's lemon balm, unfazed by the recent snow...
I trim away the dead stalks of Autumn Joy sedum, but pile them on top of the emerging new buds for protection from cold to come . . .
Behind the house now, trying to catch the last bits of sunlight -- even an old piece of log grabs at the light -- and my attention . . .
Raspberry leaves -- last year's and this year's . . .
And the last of the sun, making a kalaidoscope within a young pine's branches.