And she said, "Hello, country bumpkin! How's the frost out on the pumpkin? I've seen some sights, and man, you're something. Where'd you come from, country bumpkin?"
Thank you, Cal Smith, for a song that pops into my head every fall with the first frost. (Oh, yeah, you really need to click on that link if you've ever liked country music!)
This morning's driving to work adventure involved a hunt for a patch of frost. It did have a few requirements, bright fall colors not being one. The most important requirement was that the patch of frost had to be somewhere near the little drive I trespass upon when I
want to stop and take a picture without feeling guilty about stopping on the side of a fairly narrow road. Shhhhhhhh, you don't have to tell everything you know, so please, feel free to ignore that word "trespass." At least it isn't someone's driveway :)
Frost, frost, frost! Too soon, too soon, too soon! Last time Mother Nature asked me my preferences, I made it quite clear that 50 to 65 degree weather, twenty-four hours per day, would be perfect. I don't know where She came up with the idea to spring winter upon us when it should still be fall. Hee hee, wonder how I could re-write that sentence so that it also included the word "summer"? Serious business, M.N., what are you planning? I've been doing my darndest to appreciate each day, each season, each peak, and each transition, but you are making my head spin! Not to mention, my fingers and toes are having a tough time adjusting to this chilly blast. There. I'm done complaining. You know what you're doing, and I'm sure you'll give me plenty of opportunity to observe and learn.
Oooooooooookay, allllriiiiiiighty, then. Guess it's time for Angie to rummage through the closet and find her gloves and a snug hat. The coat is already in the car, so hey, I'm getting prepared... bring it on, 'cause I love your seasons!