The First [Unofficial] Day Of Winter

Late afternoon on Saturday, 8th November.

After a foggy Sabbath morning the sun appeared, the sky was deep blue above the trees, many of which having shed their lower leaves, still wore gilded crowns.

We took advantage of the relative warmth to walk the meadow loop. Jim made one round, the outdoor cats, Willis and Shelby sauntered behind me on a second loop.

At 10: 45 in the evening when I shut down my PC it was 53 F.

Sunday morning was dark, a sullen grey sky, a bitter wind seeping in through  my slightly open bedroom window.

As the day went on the wind picked up, making our mid-afternoon walk a bit less than pleasant.

By 8 p.m. it was 36 F, and by 10:30 in the evening a few flakes of wet snow swirled beyond the front porch light.

My brain was too busy to shut down; none of my usual mental ploys to induce sleep were effective.

I was still awake as the faint grey of morning began to lighten the sky beyond my west window.

Thimble-cat insisted that I should be out of bed by 8 a.m. sleepless night or not.

A sunless morning, 28 F and  light snow skimming the ground.

More than a month until the Winter Solstice and the slow gaining of daylight, but the sense of winter has blustered in.

All day the sky segued from cloud-strewn blue grey to blue-black, with now and then sun shining through for 5 minutes before a bluster of wind sent leaves spinning from trees; bursts of snow drove horizontally, obliterating the tree-shapes along the north and south ravines. 

The pansies will likely revive and thrust up a few blooms through the winter.

Moments of sunshine thawed blooms that have persisted through the autumn weeks.

By afternoon they were drooping.

Warmer temps are promised mid-week--time to clear the tubs and planters.

Keeping the cats out of the soil will be a challenge.

During one of the brief lulls I bundled up for a trek to the mailbox which stands in the verge where the lane connects with the main road.

I stuck my head in the shop door to tell Jim where I was heading. He was sprawled on an old quilt, tinkering something under the front bumper of a truck. Willis-cat was curled smugly beside him, supervising.

Jim crawled out, found cap and gloves and we ventured up the meadow path, past the pond and out to the road.

Coming back we were facing the wind--the kind of sharp blasts that sting the face, cause eyes to water and nose to drip.

We persevered around the lower boundary loop, crunching through snow-stiffened leaves.

Tulip poplar leaves have caught the snow; oak and sassafras leaves are strewn  about.

 A leaf from the paulownia tomentosa [Princess Tree]  caught my eye.

 A handful of frost-crisped rose buds went limp, petals browning as soon as they were brought inside.

A sunny view before the next flurry of snow and wind.

Laundry didn't go out on the back porch lines as planned. 

Jim has kept the wood fire smoldering all day; using the clothes dryer in the basement has sent warmth up the stairwell.

Sweet potatoes, peeled, sliced and baked in a drizzle of melted butter and maple syrup, cauliflower roasted with a pear/balsamic vinegrette for flavor; a small quiche filled with chopped turkey bacon, onion, a bit of diced tomato, black olives, Cabots cheddar cheese.

The cold spell is meant to moderate later in the week; if the wind drops I can work outside tidying away the remnants of summer's plantings.

Today, after dashing out to empty cat litter, hurrying to toss kitchen garbage, and that hasty wind-driven walk to the mailbox, I've been grateful for the coziness of the house, for the clean sheets and quilts to layer on beds, a substantial supper to sustain us til morning.