There's something joyous about seeing the storm pass by, with the clouds announcing golden leftover light, the sun's warmth filtering through the mist left by the passing storm.

A beautiful moment like that happened yesterday.


I was inside when the world all around me just seemed... golden.


Going outside the skies were ablaze in the goldenness.


The storm had just passed and the last golden rays of sunshine for the day were warming the misty shadows.


Rain... rain... rain.... it had rained all day until I thought we might need to find an ark to navigate about in.


The golden light bathed Simba in its warmth... but he didn't look none too thrilled, now did he?


The show didn't last long...


 but just long enough...


... for me to breathe in its radiant glow, and thank the Master Painter once again for the glow that had not only filled the skies, but my heart.


Poor Roger... he worries about me in moments like this.  What is up there that you are looking at? 


 Ah well... a drink of rain water makes everything better...


The goldenness melted into misty pinks over the mountaintops...


My gaze coming back to rest on the terra firma... and this little rose bush burning brightly caught my eye,as if it had picked up and held close the golden light too.


And my garden lightly bathed in the waning light, rests quietly, its season now passed.


Bits of golden light still dancing around, capturing Annie in a moment of deep thought.


Wet pine needles, downed from the storm... a carpet of golden delight.


Our little blazing maple, now quiet and still, the storm and rain having dethroned her leafy covering.


The ground covered with the fallen leaves... signs the beloved season has passed far too soon.


Annie's attention was suddenly quite intense.  I knew better than to ask "what is it?".  I moved quietly to her side to see...


A staring contest.... intense.  Fierce.  In her mind, life and death perhaps.


Her gaze never faltered, nor did Annie's.  I stood amazed.  I watched her two fawns romp in the background.  And yet, she never gave in.  She knows me.  She knows Annie.  I raised my camera gently, taking the pictures.  She never moved.  She was not afraid.  I took a step to get a better vantage point ... too close.... and heard her "PFFTTT" and off they went.  Not another sound, not a leaf, not a twig, nothing.  The forest was quiet again.  Annie shifted her stance, and rubbed against me.

Early today I heard a shot ring out in the woods behind us.  I hope it wasn't her.  She knows us well, and comes by often to watch us.  She has learned to stay out of reach of the dogs, and her fawns play happily around while she and Annie stare each other down.  I too have enjoyed my visits with her.


It was time to close up the chickens for the night.  I turned the light on and did my usual head count.


All cozied up and resting quietly for the night ahead.

Annie and I headed inside.  The golden light had faded, and my hot cup of tea was waiting... and this little poem wrote itself in my heart as I sipped my tea, and watched the lingering shadows accept the final embrace of darkness.