Autumn morning.

At a quarter to seven, the view out the bedroom window was of a pink-and-orange sunrise coloring the clouds and tinting the now-fading fall leaves still clinging to the trees. The woods beyond the road were tinged with purple, and all was aglow.

I got up to put out the trash before the garbage trucks came, and went for a walk down by the shore. The tide was in, so I didn’t go far — just enough to get my blood moving. Back at the house, I made coffee, hot cereal; started a fire in the woodstove to take the chill off. The fire is now humming along, the chimney singing, my toes warming. The cloudy sky is a yellow-white to the east, a pale grey to the west. The garbage trucks go by. My nose is cold, but the rest of me is warm indeed.


2 thoughts on “Autumn morning.

  1. I miss autumn. It was in the 80s here yesterday. I sat watching the World Series yesterday suddenly getting a little depressed about the whole lack of seasons bit.

    1. The temperature here is going to drop a fair bit this week: we’ve been steadily in the upper 50s, but we’re starting to look at highs in the 40s by Friday. Which means 30s at night. And probably pressing the woodstove into more frequent service…

      I may finally have to give up my porch-corner office!

      Fortunately, you live an an area of extreme microclimates, so you probably only have to drive 30 minutes in one direction or another to reach cool foggy weather. Which is more autumnal than temps in the 80s. But it’s true: there really isn’t anything like autumn in New England, or at least in a temperate climate.

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