An Orange Colored Sky

One morning at our Ferncroft home in Wonalancet an odd, amber glow from outside illuminated our bedroom through its big farm windows. I was typically up at dawn and sitting out at our streamside picnic table, sipping my black coffee, cat by my side, enjoying the country quiet that was there back in those days. 

It was Phoebe, a little black cat who had come with me from Hawaii in 1998, who could not wait for the sun. 

She was 14 then and lived another six years; but after a difficult night in my arms waited one last time for me to habitually wake with the morning light, stretched in a yawn, then was gone.

Now Gus, handsome, dapper gray, curiously rose, his big paws clapping down the stairs as I followed, to look out the back door with me at the neon orange that had engulfed us. 

It was October and neither Gus nor Phoebe before him, clever as they may be, could chameleon their monochrome fur against the fallen kaleidoscope of autumn leaves. 

I sat on the steps of the porch with my coffee, troubling: Do the bees have enough food to get through winter? But somehow this phenomenal glow gave me peace of mind all was well in my world.

That was twelve years ago. Now tiger-striped Simon sits curled up by my side and outside, once again, an orange colored sky. He's too sleepy to care but I'm still aware of the beehives clustering in the 40F temps, getting ready for a long winter. 

I've always loved the dramatic looks of Autumn. It was then we'd head off for a wilderness paddle. Was that photo really taken fifteen years ago? 

Well, so, this day's orange colored sky has me reflecting on memories of Gus, my little buddy, that beautiful morning... but also of my time passed with lost family, lifelong friends, hives, and pets gone the way of the falling leaves. RIP Despina, Sean, Maureen...so many more...

So grateful to still be here, worrying about my bees, enjoying the company of my cat, but especially to be experiencing our beautiful world despite all the dramatic changes growing older must witness. 

So fast the times pass.

Ducks first autumn - RIP Jack & Hugo

Hives Mt Israel 2025