Persimmons are getting close to ripening, they look fairly fat and plentiful this year, just hope we get some before the critters get 'em all.

There's a crispness to the morning and evening air that spurs numerous memories of falls past. Of leaf raking and jumping into the piles, walking through the multi-colored trees along acorn and walnut strewn paths, the smell of the hedge-apples, and the noise of the thousands of birds gathering in the trees for their flight southward. Pumpkins and gourds in the roadside fruit stands, the last little wildflowers blooming in small patches of sunlit earth, and creatures flashing to and fro gathering that last bit of sustanance before winter's chill. And to top it all, the smell of a wood fire or leaves burning, as the sky turns to familiar red, orange and purple hues matched only by those of the trees.
Best of all is the open space around the lake to throw a line in.



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There's almost nothin' wrong with the first lie, it's the weight of all the others holdin' it up that gets ya'! - Tim