Fall feels more like winter. Several mornings this last week I woke to a wonderland of frost, enough to change the quality of the early light in my windows. Cold and bright. Strawberry plants gleamed red and green under their silver frosting and a sad looking potted geranium froze right over. (I had better unclog that pot before it cracks.) Even the patio furniture changed under it's whitewash of frost. Miss S, bundled in her too-big coat, wasn't nearly as thrilled with the changes as I was. Crunchy grass is harder to walk on and cold fingers and toes aren't as nimble as they should be. She contented herself by scraping frost off a patio chair with her sandbox toy while I marveled and photographed. Then back inside to play by the fire.
That was first light. We were out again, ambling home from the grocery store, at dusk. Puddles aplenty reflected the dying light, as if to extend the short day. Miss S munched an apple. We keep a box of them in the garage and Miss S has a hard time passing by without stealing one.
A little new-camera fun. I used the selective colour setting here to drown everything but Miss S's coat and hat to monotone. The light is soft to start with and I think this effect enhances the mood of the moment -- quiet and grey with a shining path of light to lead us home.
That was last week. Today looks more like this.
I'm nursing a sick husband and conserving my own scratchy voice. Miss S is at Nana's for the day, breathing germ-free air and giving mommy and daddy time to rest. Chai tea from a cheery red mug and a new crochet project are on the agenda.