Here it is:

It's now fully mid-September. As we were pedaling around the 'hood on our bikes in the twilight, I said (and not a bit out of breath, in case you were wondering), "It's the autumnal equinox pretty soon, isn't it?"

"Yep, the 20th, isn't it?" the historian rejoined, in his knowledgeable way.

Right. And then the day will last, briefly, as long as the night; and then the nights will grow longer. So as of this moment, the people, I believe we can all agree that the light is a precious commodity, and we'd all best be making the most of it.

Today, in order to make the most of the light, I

• ate my little breakfast out on the porch and watched our raggedy cherry trees up against the blue and cloud.
• read my student drafts on the terrace outside the Student Center at work.
• took the aforementioned bike ride in the evening.

I hope to do more of the same and similar over the next few weeks, and so should you. Tomorrow, alas, I must arise at the crack of dawn for an early meeting. I will try not to focus on the crack portion of the morning, and instead, look up to see what's happening in the sky. Something good, I bet.

Cooking update: the quinoa salad was lovely today; yesterday, the ratatouille was resplendent. And we still have gorgeous tomatoes left, just lying around, not called for in any recipes, and therefore fair game for any rapacious tomato eaters. Of which there are at least a couple, lurking in the kitchen and environs.

Industry.

We were pretty industrious today. In fact, I think of this time of year as particularly industrious, what with the harvest--or in our case, the purchasing of other peoples' harvests--the provisioning and preserving of food, the cleaning out so that we can at least start ahead of the enclosing of everything when we hole up for the winter.

After we got back from the farmer's market, and we took Bruiser for a walk, and the historian went for a bike ride and I contemplated my options, we got to work. The historian worked away in the backyard, trimming and cutting back, while I pulled out some of the baskets and boxes that have been collecting rejection letters, magazines, old greetings from friends, bank statements for the children who are away, old agendas and notebooks. I threw away a huge amount of stuff, enough to make a dent in the rest of my accumulation, enough to make me realize that, if I had in mind to control the accumulation, I would need to spend regular time doing the same for, well, the rest of my life. I think some people call that "housekeeping." Am I signing up for it? Well, provisionally. Check back with me in awhile.

Bruiser was very watchful during all these activities. What with dogs living to the west and the east, he has a lot of policing to do. Not to mention the dangerous little old ladies, school children, and UPS trucks there are to announce. Doing his job, and very effectively, I might add.

After our labors, which are not finished and which will never be finished, we went to a family gathering at a park. My cousin and her husband recently adopted a boy from Ethiopia. She met him there when she was part of a humanitarian mission (she's a nurse). The gathering was so we could meet him. The weather and the light could not have been more beautiful. The kids played some soccer and some basketball, we all chatted and visited, and Will crawled around after a ball. These days, September and October in Utah, are some of the best days ever. It's like cherishing the last peaches or cherries or celebrating when the asian pear guy is at the market. It's brief, it's wonderful, it's going going gone.

(picture of Will taken by college daughter--thanks!)