We’ve gone from sunny 80° weather late last week to gray winter storms and highs in the low 60s. For those who don’t know how our mountain weather can change, it would seem as if we’d stepped into a time machine and fast-forwarded to November.
The air is now sweet and crystal-clear, and the mountains are hidden behind walls of cloud. Down in the ravines, the clouds rise and tear away from the forest, chased by the beginnings of this year’s strong winds. It is all a symphony, each part of the landscape resonating in its own key; all things praising God, the Master Landscaper, whose hand is now more visible in the beauty of his creation.
The sudden cold is amazing, and the shift to cooler, wetter weather makes me grab for my next-to-heaviest coat as I head outside. My blood is still “thinner” from the hot weather, and I’m very-much-not acclimatized.
This kind of thing is why I maintain that our growing season is so short. The garden didn’t do as well as it could have (largely due to my ineptitude), and this fall I promise (once again) to try to do it better justice. Yet harvesting only a handful each of strawberries and cherry tomatoes does tend to be strongly demotivating. I do have to say that even though we didn’t get many, the strawberries were fantastic; the taste you get from them being grown in the alpine climate makes the flavor so much more intense and different from the nearly tasteless ones grown in Southern climates. It’s almost as if we’re compensated somehow in quality instead of quantity.
This morning’s walk to the end of the lane with my Golden Retriever buddy was downright chilly. I found myself looking to see if my breath showed, and then I checked to see if my flashlight was in my pocket… My Golden buddy’s pace was certainly much faster, as I think he wanted to get down to the paper-box and back to his warm bed, inside, out of the cold.
And to close, the sudden change in the weather merits a bit of poetry:
Suddenly into Fall we fell
Rain’s curtains shroud forest and dell
The River of Clouds fills with fog and swells
And the sudden deep darkness as I rise in the mornings
Makes getting up … hell.