I'm sitting here enjoying my coffee, reading some stories and reviews on GEC, even looking at some pics. I sit here with a Dogleg jack on my lap and a half congress in my pocket. I look over to my knife shelf where sits my beavertail #53, and my Red Wine lockback, both ready for another days work. I step outside to take a breath, after an evening rain it's so fresh, there is a light fog this morning and it looks like another fine morning. A lone crow sends off a call through the morning air, an all too familiar sound for me. I look to the trees and I see the changing of color, a time passing by. It's seems like it would be something so hard to miss, but it truly gets looked over far to often. Fall is here and the leaves are saying their goodbyes as they drift down towards the earth, their season is over.

The acorns fall fresh everyday, feeding the squirrels and other inhabitants of these  old oaks. The field corn surrounding our farm has changed in color, now a light brown, now signifying it's time is soon ready. My breath fades off through the chilly air, a simple wonder that magnifies the season. Fresh leaves litter the ground, a carpet of colors welcome to our yard. I think of a little knife company, just a few miles away, I think back to how just days ago I met some new friends there. I enjoyed a short visit with some great people, but any visit that ends, is a short one when in the company of such people. Then I wander about the people I didn't meet while I was there, the real heart and soul of such a place. The men and women behind the glass. The ones that made the knife I trust for work, the one I sit and enjoy a book with, the one I wet a line with, and the others that see me through a day, a simple tool that means so much. A flock of geese fly over head  yelling a language I don't understand. It does however remind me of the fast approaching hunting season, a smile comes to my face when I think of one of my favorite fall time chores, refreshing the supplies of my small game vest. Fresh shells are added and a good knife is chosen to ride in one of the many pockets. That knife will be a constant until the season ends, then it can retire back to the box until it's time is once again called upon.

Well, a fall festival is being prepared at work, so I'm off to make a corn maze.