I have a love/hate relationship with fall. I love the colours and I love the lack of insects. Where we live, we don't get the stunning reds and oranges of the maple trees. They don't grow in this area. We have to content ourselves with yellows, browns and a sort of orangey colour. We have a Virginia Creeper vine that grows on the fence we share with our neighbour. It turns a brilliant scarlet, but this year most of the leaves got blown off before they could turn.
The name of the yellow tree is unknown to me. Poor thing is the first to lose its leaves. It shudders in its nakedness as the wind tears at its last vestiges of decency. The vine behind it is in the same predicament this year. But the elm tree. Ahhh, this is a tree after my own heart. It stays verdant, defiant against the shorter days that urge it to shed its green in the same way that I refuse to give up my shorts and sandals. It's starting to succumb, though, just as I've succumbed to the chill in the air and now have to wear a light jacket.
The overnight low is supposed to reach the freezing point in a few days and the air has that slightly metallic smell signalling the arrival of frost. It might hit the low lying areas tonight but it's windy and that usually helps to keep Jack at bay.
The hate part of my relationship with fall? It means winter is on its way and I truly despise winter. I hated winter even when I was a kid. What kid doesn't like winter? I don't like being cold and my aging joints are disliking it more and more, as well. I don't do well with winter's shorter days. Barely 7 hours of daylight makes for a grumpy Barb.
Ah, well. Only 3 more years and I can say adios to the 6 month deep freeze.
I'm gonna be really ticked off if the world *does* come to an end in 2012.