We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane.
Yes indeed. Right after sunset, when it is no longer raining but there is still a bit of sheen on the fallen leaves, and the air still smells humid.
Right after sunset in the latter part of fall, whether there has been rain or not, there is a quiet, contemplative ambiance to the landscape.
While rural New England is beautiful any time of the year, the most "desolate" times of year- late autumn and winter- especially after sundown- stick in my memory the most.