Addled Adages

time and tide turn on a dime

the wise owl let theĀ dogs out

nosey parkers look in horse’s mouths

rolling stones drive up the wall

early birds are two per bush

quiet mice get pigs in pokes

flying timeĀ skins cats

running jokes fall on flat faces

sly foxes get what’s coming

dead ducks are daft as a brushes

cold turkey’s the end of the line

 

 

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Night Gathers

Night slips in on soft feet, but not silently. You can hear the jays arguing over the best bedding spots and a few determined frogs still laying claim to their territory before it gets too cold. The insects have largely abandoned the autumn woods but one can hear a gaggle of geese gabbling their way to the ground just beyond the brow of the hill. The yellow leaves of the cherry stand out against the gathering dusk while the brown leaves of the oak blend in. In a week or two there won’t be enough leaves on either to amount to a good fire. Traffic has begun to make that low, slow, going home purr, it’s lights becoming brighter with each passing moment as the grey skies fades quietly into black. A slight mist begins to fall and for an instant all of the trees on the horizon stand out in stark relief before the gloom swallows them utterly. An owl hoots and the jays cease their squabbles abruptly. Somehow it has segued into full dark without my noticing. The mist is making my sweatshirt heavy and turning my once cheerful fire into a smoking heap. I think I shall retreat indoors and allow the autumn night to claim this hill.

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