It's early fall here in the Piedmont of South Carolina, and the sourwood trees are turning pink. The fields are still full of September's yellow and purple asters, goldenrod, pink gerardia, and tall grass seedheads. Radu, Winston and I had an energetic hike on the pipeline in the cool shadows of the morning, stopping for a while to meditate and draw this journal entry/explore the woods and chase deer. The dogs came home covered in green beggar-ticks and muddy paws from playing in tiny Meetinghouse Creek. My hiking boots were wet with dew, but otherwise I remained presentable.