Heather
13
With the closing of October, most days offered a biting chill that drove Heather into wearing tights with her skirts and layers under her sweaters. But there was no rhythm or reason to October weather in the Willamette Valley. Three days of blissful sunshine preceded a day of dreary gray and rain, with a foggy morning that burned off to blue sky by three in the afternoon.
Mother Gaia was saying good-bye to the last of her summer kin and—at the same time—welcoming the death that autumn brought. Leaves fell, flowers shriveled up, and the potatoes and garlic were harvested. Rows of onions dried from their tops hung in rafters in the yurt they used for drying, and Mama started roasting root veggies and making stews and soups.
Despite the onset of the cold that bothered Heather m
