Tales from the Garden

November has rolled around again, and this year it sure is a doozy, eh?   But putting my election day emotions on hold for a minute, I'm contemplating this:     In autumn, nature's palette is distinctly different than any other time of year, and I long to spend hours drinking in the beauty.  But alas, too many other things fill my days, and my thirst for time off from my "regular life" only grows.  Each morning when I awake, I see the brilliant sunrise with a crisp edge of frost making the leaves rain down from the Jujube and Apricot trees, and at day's end I see the golden angle of the sun beaming through the chartreuse and yellow leaves of the Cottonwood along Arivaca Creek.  In between, there are lists and chores, and distractions galore.    If I'm lucky, some of those distractions include butterflies and bees, flowers and birds.  If I'm not, they include politics and conflicts, anger and sadness.  And no matter what, even when I manage to cross off man