O hushed October morning mild,

Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;

Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,

Should waste them all.

Unintentionally, awake at 4:30 a.m. My husband is home from a short trip, we have our coffee and the dogs their breakfast, and catch up on life; our last 48 hours of it. There is frost on the wildflowers - the Queen Anne’s Lace and chicory - left in the meadow, and I’ve remembered my gloves. This October morning, sun lights the blaze of trees at the river’s edge and I’m not in a hurry in my head or my body

O hushed October morning mild,

Begin the hours of this day slow.

Make the day seem to us less brief.

~ from Robert Frost, October