This August, we are at the Would-Be Farm, smiting the weeds, checking on the trees, and making improvements to the infrastructure (rain barrels! a gravel pad for parking!). Then came the first autumnal cool front, and suddenly summer seemed to be slipping away.
With the cooler weather, we moved out of the luxury of my sister's house (Hi Sis!) and into Base Camp. I haven't yet installed the solar, so we must get by without the civilization of a fan to blow the mosquitoes around. When the sun goes down, it's all bird noises, frogs, and the faint, mysterious night sounds outside the little tin cottage.
Except for the racket of something large-ish on the deck.
Maybe a cat, maybe a racoon, maybe a skunk or the possiblity of bears –– a pair has been spotted a few ridges over, according to the gossip. The trail cameral shows this series: