Apple picking season: my wife Julia using her pony Pie as as a step pony to pick crab apples in our orchard. I planted this tree six years ago which makes it a great example of exponential growth (it was a twelve-inch-tall bare root plant when I stuck it in the ground)

It was just Julia and Pie that morning under the blue sky, looking over the Brushy Mountains.

Eight years ago, I planted some baby pawpaws. They're finally rewarding us with what's become my new favorite fruit. They're North America's largest native fruit and taste like a cross between a banana and a pineapple which is why people call them custard apples. Too bad their skins are so thin they'd never survive the trip to the grocery store. That's why, if you want pawpaws, you have to grow them yourself or be good buddies with someone that does.

Our old dog Snookie slogging up the logging road the day our mountain burned

I was pushing up brush piles with the tractor when this timber rattler crawled out from under a downed oak. She crawled right by the tractor, and I knew it was a she because her belly was yellow. From there, she slithered over to the camp site and I figured maybe I'd wait a few days before I pitched the tent there.

My new passion is beelining, where you catch wild bees in a small box called a bee box, feed them sugar water, and follow them to their nests. Here, a yellow jacket joins three bees for a sip of sugar water in front of the bee box I built in my shed. I'm hoping the bees don't lead me to a wasp nest (or "wasper" nest, as Cooter, the guy who used to live on our property, called them).

Never use harsh abrasives on your cast iron skillets. Here, our border collies Diggity and Lucky show how it's done at our cabin.

An oak leaf I found on a recent walk out behind our cabin. The leaves surrounding it are maple leaves.

I made you a leaf arrangement I think you'll enjoy. The big yellow leaf is a tulip poplar, the reddish leaves are sassafras and the orange one is sour wood. I found these leaves while walking through the forest last week.

While looking for locust logs, I pried a piece of bark off an old locust tree and found this bat hunkered down underneath. I felt bad and hope it finds cozy home before winter weather sets in.