On a recent cool, crisp, October morning at Middle Ridge Farm, we stepped out the door and headed to the barn.  A stiff breeze swooping down the ridge and across the field caught my breath and caused me to snuggle into my sweater as it loosened the leaves of the Chinese Chestnut tree, a fluttering cascade of gold.

Mr. Garner stopped mid stride, “Look, that’s not a leaf, it’s a moth!  Where’s your phone?”

While he kindly retrieved my camera-phone, I studied the beauty of a speckled golden-orange Ennmos magnaria (I looked it up) moth.  He or she was clinging, upside down to a concrete step, the early morning sun lending the already bright wings a glorious glow, perfectly impersonating an autumn leaf.