It's coming

These last few days have been the sort of summer days that, although beautiful, remind you that fall is definately on its way. Perfectly sunny, warm during the day, cool at night, and no humidity (well, not NONE... 45% or so). Its like 9/11 was. 'an almost too perfect day' as Ani Difranco has said. Wonder if I'll ever be able to enjoy a late summer day without comparing it to that day.

When I woke up this morning, it was 54 degrees outside (you folks who aren't here in America will have to do your own calculations...). I put on fleece socks, jeans, a long sleeve shirt and a light weight but very fuzzy wool sweater. I was cold. It was beautiful.

There are flocks of Canada geese around too. I think its a little early for them to be migrating, but what do I know. I haven't seen many this summer and suddenly there a little packets of them in the fields where there were none last week.

The local orchard/farmstand opens today. I can't believe its that late in the year. They'll stay open until just after the Holidays, I think... although they might close after Thanksgiving. Soon I'll have to be dodging droves of weekend apple-pickers with their toddlers as the slowly cross the street...in a 45MPH zone. And I'll complain heavily, I'm sure.

Soon enough, though. Soon enough. 54 will feel WARM. I'll leave the heat turned all the way up to 60 and will tell K to get a sweater. The dogs & the cats will curl up together on the dog beds, huddling for warmth (and they'll suck me in). We'll be watching the thermometer drop, hear reports of black ice (which never apply to us since we live more or less in the middle of nowhere). There will be days where I'll refuse to leave the house, except maybe to shovel. Which reminds me- I need to get the snowblower repaired. Now.

This is why I love New England. No matter how BAD or how GOOD out it is, you know its going to change. It always changes. Something is always coming or going. It leads to a short attention span when it comes to weather. And scenery.

Foliage is coming. Frost in the morning. Big meaty stews, and buttenut squash ravioli's. Crunching leaves under foot and that fall smell. And lets not forget turkey (ahhhh thanksgiving, the one holiday I kind of like, as long as I don't think too hard about what it actually means- how horribly we treated the natives).

Life is short, and there is nothing like the cycle of the seasons in New England to remind us of that. It's coming.