As I headed out on my walk this morning I spied a frozen puddle.
I was tempted to walk right by. Afterall, it was just a puddle. Instead I stopped, dropped and got personally acquainted.
Glad I did.
Yup. Winter has launched a shot across autumn’s bow. The faint drizzle yesterday turned into several centimetres of the white stuff by morning.
But the temps will rise later this week and the panic to install snow tires, replace the weather stripping and buy new gloves will wane. After all, winter is months way.
Wild rose hip Rosa acicularis
Jack Frost and I were both out early this morning. I found his mark on low-growing shrubs and grasses, on withered clover and damp stones.
After too many days of heavy rain this week’s forecast promises sun and warmth. Ah, but nighttime, that’s a different story. Old Man Frost is lurking around the edges, biding his time. Winter’s harbinger.
September 13, 2016
Another spring storm.
Heavy snow shuts down the garden.
Underneath — the lilac holds her perfumed breath.
A light mist dripped over the garden the day before.
Nightfall and the temperature dropped.
By morning frost crystals, like salt grains, dot the lupine leaves.