seasons

I know it was sunny and hot here today. And it doesn't feel like winter is coming... but it is. And while we won't see flocks of geese flying south or snowflakes dancing in the air... the seasons do change here. One of my fears in moving here was that I would miss out on the changing of the seasons. Thankfully, I was wrong.

The time changed last week and there is a distinct chill in the morning air. It's dark earlier, and shop windows display sweaters and winter coats. Apples and pumpkins are in season, and I start to have thoughts of soup and quilts and flannel pajamas. (Ok, admittedly, I wear those year round.)

Saw this poem today and felt a little excited for winter. Surely that is a sign that this North American girl has been here awhile.

Winter is coming! The wind that blows
Hard from the north, from the land of snows,
Nips the fingers and reddens the nose,
Whips the branches and tugs the clothes
And strips the tree,
Till nothing is left of her yellow attire;
And hoar frost streaks the choclatey mire,
And crows string like crochets along the wire,
And wanderers think of home and fire,
And so do we.

-Shirley Hughes