The leaves changing on the Spanish oaks, the smell of cedar that the breeze stirs. The lesser goldfinches and butterflies showing up; the hopes that the Monarchs and hummingbirds make it safely to their Winter homes. A rare year when we see the sandhill cranes or whoopers pass overhead.
But I'm grateful for these memories. And I'm grateful that I realized when they were happening how precious they were. How important. How they were the very essence of what life is about.