Last night

[lsanderson]

Last night, winter reached out and smothered autumn. It was a quick death. It wasn't unexpected, but the first killing frost had just arrived a week or so ago. I'd hoped that autumn would linger longer in its death bed. But, no, it was not to be, and today the world is white and ice. The wind, grown wicked, swirls about and rattles the windows. The window over the stairs, whose storm window still sits in the basement waiting a second coating of paint, sweats profusely, condensing moisture out of the inside air. My head, the hair freshly cut, feels every draft, both real and imagined. The long, British, electric heater set quite low, clicks on and off in front of the office window whose storm has never fit. Catalpa leaves, which still somewhat lingered on the two trees, lie covered on both the front and back of the house. Three bags of raked leaves still sit in back, where the last leaves were supposed to join them. (Last pickup is bright and early tomorrow, and I'm not going to drag them out from under the thin layer of snow and ice.)

Comments

To be, or not to be, drama free...

[thirdworld.livejournal.com]

To be, or not to be drama free: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous weather,
Or to take arms against a sea of drafts,
And by being a drama queen, ease them?

In truth you have my sympathies, and I too enjoy flamboyant language and drama. And rainbows... but that is another discussion for this straight boy ;)

Winter in your part of the world drains the very joy from a person. Down here in the South winter is a tamer beast, seemingly docile after our oppressive, humid summer, with its thick heat. Indeed the cold seems a blessing; a period of respite from a siege that traps one indoors. It's cold enough to vanquish pests and clear the air, but mild enough to allow me to emerge from a long exile inside air-conditioned strongholds. I take long walks in winter and the exercise allies with the chill, to burn off more calories than a treadmill in a warm home. But rain falls too often, and I hate the soul-searing combination of cold and wet.

And autumn? What strange creature is that? It seems a lifetime since last I saw a decent autumn. Most years, we seem to slip from the endless blast of a damp hairdryer on high, straight to the chill of the supermarket freezer section. Though we did have a few sweet days this year -- where one was comfortable without the need to seek the refuge -- they were too few to do more than taunt us.

Oh to have the wealth to migrate with the birds and pick the finest cultures with the sweetest climes. But for now I'd suggest wearing a cap. It works wonders for drafts, both real and imagined.

Re: To be, or not to be, drama free...

[lsanderson.livejournal.com]

We usually have a long, extremely boring period of gray with leafless trees and dead brown grasses. The killing frost is usually a month before the snow. (I've heard this is the longest growing season on record so far, but give global warming a few more years...) This year's swiftness seems nice.

[pameladean]

That is SUCH a gorgeous paragraph that I almost hate to point out that it's supposed to be forty degrees on Sunday.

I am grateful, however. I haven't planted all my bulbs yet, seduced by autumn's "oh, I'm fine, really" airs and graces.

P.

[lsanderson.livejournal.com]

(blush) Thanks!