His name makes you think he should be dressed in black leather and chains, and be holding a tiny guitar, but he’s not. What he IS is a cute tiny little wren who lives in the rocks. He’s only about 5 1/2 inches long, tip of beak to tip of tail. This particular rock wren lives in my parents’ back yard. I think he has a nest there. He’s got a beautiful song, and you can always tell when he’s around by his singing. He’s there frequently, and he’s one of the most cooperative photographic subjects I have ever found in a bird. I am sure glad he’s around.

I figured out what the little bird I saw in my outdoor fireplace a week ago was. He was a brown creeper. He has a very unique song, and I heard him one day while I was in the greenhouse. I recognized his song as something new, and ran inside to get my camera. I proceeded to chase him around the trees in my backyard and my next-door neighbor’s yard. He does NOT hold still, and was beyond difficult to photograph. Here is the best I could do:

I have been very busy at work. The tourist season is almost over here in Moab, and I am not sure whether to rejoice or break down and weep. It means a break, a relaxing winter, but it also means an end to about half of our income. Good thing we’ve both been working extra…maybe we actually CAN relax this year.

I kicked off my artsy-craftsy season with that pair of socks I wrote about recently. I finished them, and gave them to my mom, as planned. They fit her very well. I did manage to take a picture or two of them before I passed them along. I loved the colors of the yarn while it was balled up on the skein, but once it became socks, I don’t like how the variegation worked out. Good thing my mom liked them…

It is definitely autumn here. The leaves are all turning pretty colors, and the air is chilly and filled with the aroma of wood smoke, which I love, but my allergies do NOT. I can deal with it. I love the smell. I will leave you with a look skyward through our HUGE sycamore tree in the front yard: