Yesterday it rained all day, the skies gloomy and gray. By nightfall, the dark skies were spitting wet snow. Today a landscape dusted with a frosting of sugary snow emerged out of the early morning darkness. In the eastern sky, a long, lingering sun took its sweet time rising.
This should not come as a surprise. It is almost November, and there have been hints. A touch of cold on some days. Farmstands and orchards overflowing with end-of-season harvests. But a long and delicious, mild autumn has lulled me into a state of denial. A few days ago, I was still mowing the lawn, snipping herbs from the garden. Bright yellow leaves were clinging to lower branches. Woodland paths covered with a welcoming carpet of brightly colored leaves. Falling leaves turned into bright swirls of confetti on roadways. The fall foliage colors a sharp contrast against the trees starting to dress in their lacy winter finery.
A bit of a rude awakening, but it is hard to not be enchanted by the first magical snow of the season. But there are still leaves on the trees, and this early snow is already melting. I will not succumb entirely to winter. Not yet.