irish breakfast tea. [autumn approaching]

It's one of those mornings again. I do not say this because it's a dreadful, nothing is going right sort of morning. I say it because the night and dawn have brought a beautiful, enchanting mist upon my valley again this morning. I love these kinds of mornings, and while I took Cael out on his morning walk I took in the smells of the damp woods as the crisp autumn air nipped at the back of my neck. I pulled up my hood and noticed leaves littering the ground in a decorative carpet of golds and yellows. The vermilion leaves have not yet begun to show themselves as much as the vibrant, early yellows, but I have heard whispers of the sugar maples preparing for the day when they will allow their colors to explode forth in an array of gorgeous shades of sweet orange, yellow, with hints of crimson. I'll be there on that day, taking in the beauty and admiring the canvas of color with which God always blesses this valley. The time approaches.