Changing of Seasons

Last week when I left town I tore across the state in 90 degree heat.  Four days later I tore back across the state homeward bound, stepped out of my truck at a rest stop, and was surprised to find the temperatures were barely pushing 60.  As I went along other signs of the changing seasons were noticeable in the changing color of the trees and the shifting of the wind.  Having grown up on the coast, even though this is my fifth year out here, having actual definitive seasons is still always a surprising, enjoyable thing. 

I have always loved Fall and Winter, though where I'm from those seasons, including spring, were melded into one, long, ten-month, wet, and grey season. (Summer was almost non-existent.)  This hasn't changed since moving over here.  Instead it is enhanced by the intensity of the seasonal changes here compared to the slow meld I was used to on the coast.  This morning I woke to a cold bite of air on my nose and that clammy, cold feel that one gets from the contrast of the freezing air with the heat in the blankets.  I jumped up quickly to close the windows and just as quickly jumped back into bed.

Soon, the air will be hinted with the smells of woodstove smoke as opposed to wildfire smoke. The nights are longer, the days a little cooler, and I find myself feeling good about letting go of summer and moving on to the quieter activities that winter allows.  I'm looking forward to the coziness of being snowed in with my books, of winter stews, movies, snowshoeing, and hot chocolate.