This is the first time I have felt a chill in the air, a sleepy haze settles around the trees, too many leaves, dried up and brown, blanket the grass. The sky light fades way too early in the day. I reach for a sweater to keep warm. I grab a wool blanket and a good book to brace me for the coming fall that is inevitable.
Last night I curled up in my down comforter and surrounded myself with piles of pillows to ward off the cool dampness.
Usually I love the fall, with its trees dressed in ochre, yellow, red and orange, a time of transformation. A time to stack cut wood in the shed in preparation for fires at night for cheer and warmth.
Then I have to check the larders. Are there canned fruits for winter, tins of beans, tuna fish and bags of rice and flour? A January pie made of canned peaches can remind me of summers past, like fading friendships not detailed memories but a brief moment of freedom as the smell of peaches baking gives me hope.
We will no longer deal with 90° days, sweltering under the sun, and drinking iced tea by the glassfuls. Shorts and t-shirts are folded and packed away and fleece jackets come to the front of the closet for easy access.
The sun comes up later and drops way too soon into the horizon. Are moles, rabbits and squirrels holding up in burrows as defense against rain and snow? Somehow snuggling up with a sleuth of bears sounds comforting.
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