The temps dipped into the 20's last night. Apparently Mother Nature does not give a fig that the Sox won the World Series. Perhaps she was born in Denver.
This is an exciting time of year. We in New England are capable of endless weather conversations. There is a casual art form to it as well as a social structure. A frame on which we build short conversations with people we don't know well. During lively times of the year (the changes of the four seasons) we can discuss the
unpredictable weather with relish. It's a safe conversation and a statement of fact...we will cope no matter what the atmosphere around us conjures up.
The wonder of Fall is it's first act - the spectacular colors displayed in the leaves as they prepare to die. The second act, if one lives in the country, is the way that the death of leaves reveals the forest. For instance, birch (nurse trees to the forest) stand in stark contrast to pines. Animal paths once hidden are visible. Vacated bird nests can be seen. Deer, moose, bear, wild turkeys are suddenly nearly visible to even careful, casual observation. My dogs are not fans of this time of the year. Their work is more difficult. They patrol the boundaries of the property against invaders that they can smell and hear. My parrot screams some message to them about four legged tresspassors and Tye and Reb spring into action. I watch, listen, calm my companions and go back to my tasks.
The other excitement in these rural parts. The political races,of course. An opportunity to discuss something other than the weather.