Perhaps a record. A lot of work, but now unlimited beets and cottage cheese until just about this time next year.

One of those somewhat magical mornings when, after a hard frost, the maples let their leaves loose.

I stand quietly under a maple in the still cold air, and let the leaves flutter down around me (Pax is busy elsewhere). Scores drop every minute, and how the tree decides which go when is beyond my understanding. Then, a slight zephyr sends scores fluttering down every second. In an hour or two the tree, mostly bare, stands on the center of a thick and colorful carpet. It's a sight to behold.