Finished training our new bowlers, then rushed off to the Ford dealer to fix a recall issue and have the car serviced. This made me late for afternoon bowling so I became a spectator. Home by 4 pm so got in a few minutes reading outside before the sun was below the trees.
All the orange trees here in the park and along the avenue are laden in ripe oranges now. Looks like a Halloween Christmas.
Here is the first of the two poems that my Port Hardy school friend sent along. All rights are reserved.

       JOURNEY SOUTH

Raindrops wiggle swimming

across the bus window

like gametes racing

to a waiting egg.

So my journey seems.

My crooked path

filled with hazard,

my destination chancy.

And yet I race on

pressing hard as I may

hoping for a happy ending

mindless as I dream.

Sally Lyon McMahon