Last weekend our friends treated us to a stay at their beautiful property, no labour required. Friday evening slipped away silently as we sprawled on the floor before the fire, reading. So when Saturday morning dawned, grey and misty but without rain, it was time to explore anew the fields and forests of Fireweed.
At the end of summer grass is dry and noisy. This is the view from a bench where we stopped to listen to it converse with the wind . . .
. . . and noticed a white spider's web inside a curled head of grass. As always, we left the Fireweed refreshed, content, and quiet, but this time without soar muscles.