Yesterday morning Goose Lake could see its own breath for the first time this year. We’re headed to our first frost by the end of the week. The pool will be closed on Monday and soon now I’ll move the patio flowers closer to the house. We’ve already carried the potted palms inside for the winter and made room in the breakfast room for the two large hibiscus plants.
On bleak mornings like this I’m reminded that fall, for all it’s promise, is merely the front man for winter, my least favorite season of the year. If spiders have thoughts, this one, hanging in space watching the year and its life moving visibly now toward their inevitable conclusions, must find itself in a somber mood.