"This dragonfly has dyed his body autumn"
--Bakasui
--Bakasui
I wake up in the dark and reach for corduroys and knits in shades of green and rust.
A partly pieced quilt top starts in pale yellows and runs through the earth tones to end in deep forest green.
I look up, close my eyes, sniff the wind. Change is in the air. It is a good season, somehow, for weapons kata. May my strikes be as crisp as the Arkansas Black apples that spill from my basket.


