Late Summer, sliding into early Fall

There's a particular smell to hot dry fir needles being baked by the sun. And a particular scent to dried grass, and a languor in the apple trees that are ripening their fruit.

I keep coming across more abandoned orchards...

More work on Master Feng's form. The first time I struggled, a little, but the second created its own rhythm. Maybe it's good for me, to practice for a while without correction. (We'll see if that's what I think in October when Shoko get's back and starts correcting me.)

Oh! And I'm in Nervy Girl. Not one of my articles, but there's an article there partly about me. How strange. (Well, and how not very accurate. Oh well.)