Even a feeble ray of sunlight
lights up my day, still cold now dressed more warmly.

The warm hues of the beech hedge contrasting with the evergreens:
my very own Indian Summer in tiny scale.

As I work from kitchen,
I see my gardener Stefano doing his work keeping it groomed.

Leap-froggingly removing old leaves, opening the curtain of old ones,
my mind is opening up, less burdened by my bygone thoughts.

(Drawing by me is a few years old; “me, myself and I”)