Island Bound

Only seven sleeps til I'm back on my Island.  I missed it this summer - I made it home for a mere four days in early July.

One thing that strikes me when I arrive home in summer is the fragrant air. Heavy, sweet clover.  The hot dirt.  Salt air.  Strawberry blossoms and sand.

  

The fall sights and smells will be different, of course.  Turning leaves, and the sharp piney smell of decomposition in "the woods".  Baking.  Stewing preserves in warm kitchens.  I'll take few beach walks and watch those big fall hurricane waves roll in.

One more week til my feet are back where they should be, on Island soil.