Here’s the scene which greeted me when I arrived home Friday.
As usual we went from summer to fall with the speed of a harsh wind. The transition comes without warning, carrying the same impact as walking full steam into a seemless French door. If Friday’s picture postcard wasn’t loud enough, today’s chill was deafening. The mercury says 70, but my bare arms suggest closer to 60.
Around these parts, once fall has its leaf in the door it quickly packs the creases. We’re roughly 30 days from our first freeze and about 50 days from the start of the snow season, which I mark as Halloween. Twice in 15 years I’ve seen ghouls and goblins leaving footprints in a thin layer of the white stuff. It’s rare, but it’s happened.
Fall is my favorite time of year. Football, foilage, family, friends and freezes. Can’t ask for better months.