Mother Nature has been very, very kind to Wisconsin this year which, frankly, makes us a little suspicious of her plans for the coming months.
Our storm windows stand stacked and ready in the corner of garage, but we’re not putting them up any time soon. We encourage fresh air to blow through our house for as long as we can.
Soft flannel hangs in our closet, right next to the sundresses and cotton capris. It’s a long walk downstairs for the woolen sweaters and boots. We’re not quite ready to make that hike.
Chalk art drawings in front of the house down the street have taken on an autumnal tone as Jack O’Lanterns replace hopscotch and flowers. Still, our tiny neighborhood artists are still at work with fat hunks of chalk on sidewalks clear of snow.
Sunday night, like everyone else, we stood on our driveway and took fuzzy pictures of the sky. As the blood moon emerged from the eclipse, we held our breath and wondered — herald or harbinger?
Fog rose from the football field the morning after, and a glorious sunrise fought its way though. I grabbed a camera for my morning run, pausing here and there as I loped along.
We’re caught ‘twixt seasons, an unsettling, stick a licked finger in the wind state of mind. Darkness creeps in from both ends of the day.
It’s a carpe diem time of year, full of frost and hope.