A change of seasons
As fall settles on Sonoma, and the vineyards morph into hues of red and gold, I’m wanting to burrow in by the fire to write. It seems romance is everywhere this time of year. Couples stroll the plaza hand in hand, and I pass others in café windows, their adoring faces aglow in the candlelight. The days are noticeably shorter now, and the cool evening air leaves a crisp, tingling feeling on my face. Maybe I love this time of year most just because there’s less daylight—and more time to write. I’ll spend the next few hours stacking firewood in anticipation of the season’s first roaring fire…tonight. An event Buster the cat has been looking forward to as well. How do I know? Just one look at the bliss and contentment on his face tells the whole story! And later this evening, with a glass of good Cabernet and the pets settled in, I’ll return to Christmas Valley and work on the next book until my eyelids revolt and insist on no more.
