The misty Autumn mornings have begun. Fog clings in the low places and along the water. The thermometer reads somewhere in the mid to upper 40’s, and the light breeze that comes at sunrise isn’t just chilly, but downright cold.
By mid-morning, the sun is warm and pleasant. The jacket that was a necessity at 8 am comes home at noon stuffed inside a backpack (we hope). In the laundry room shorts and even a tank top or two mingle with sweatpants and fleece overshirts; a very visible representation of a season in flux.
We’ve pulled out and tried on last year’s coat and snow pants, and handed-down what could be useful to others. There are piles for donation, piles for mending, piles destined to become rags.
The sun rises later and sets earlier. The after-dinner walk up the road has been replaced with a few minutes of skywatching from the safety of the porch before hustling off for bath and bed, then a good night’s sleep tucked between warm sheets in a cozy room.
Autumn has arrived – season of hearth and home. A settling-down. A tucking-in.