"Ye cannot rival for one hour...

...October's bright blue weather."

Ever since I read this Helen Hunt Jackson poem in a Sunset magazine when I was eight years old, there has not been even one October since without a day (or more) like today where the words spring into mind. For me a day's perfection is set at +39F, and this morning we were there. Took our first walk back at the bog for a while now - colder temps mean the bears have moved on, and the thinning leaves give better view into the woods off-trail, so that moose encounters are less of a surprise. My dancing dog, so delighted to be back in our regular surrounds. Brilliant blue sky. Our breath on the air. The nice older gentleman from Corpus Christi taking photos at the trailhead, trying to catch leaves in flight - "We don't have this weather at home." We don't either, not for nearly long enough anyway.

This is just like April, only with a different promise. Feel these moments slipping through fingers before we plunge into cold white sleep.