This morning it sounded as if someone were raking the leaves in my backyard.
I looked out to see a flock of robins on their way back north, I presume. They were rustling through the dried leaves and it looked like a carpet, come alive.
They are gone now and the yard is still again.
The white violets are beginning to bloom. The purple ones will follow.
Before I know it, it will be time to kick the bamboo and the wisteria will be making fuzzy buds.
Even after all these years, living on this earth, my heart still feels tender at this knowledge.