The Last of The Golden Leaves

The “Crack Willows” that line parts of the river berms are still hanging onto some of their golden leaves.
It’s so dark these winter mornings. It puts me in mind of my Uncle who had a small farm near Rangiora in North Canterbury. I heard his comment one very dark morning as he started milking his herd of cows. “it’s as dark as the inside of a cow”. As a kid I was intrigued. How would he know about the inside of a cow? A funny thing…. I use that same phrase on these dark mornings.