The cars are sheened white this morning, and there are patches of white still on the grass where the sun hasn’t reached yet. The delicate ice of frost rims a red leaf, frozen dew, fall finally here. When we got up Friday morning the temperture was 74 degrees, yesterday it was 37, today the frost fell before we woke.
Yesterday we picked apples with my parents, and the trees were loaded with fruit. Trying to eat local as much as we can, apples are the fruit we’re eating right now, and we have a refrigerator bin full. The old maple tree in front of the house is getting bare, and the leaves that are left are yellow and orange and red. Today we’ll bring in the plants from the porch, I’ll clean off the garden, and pick whatever basil didn’t get browned by the cold. We’ll finish taking down screens and washing the windows, clearing the path between inside and out. We’re turning into the dark and letting in light.