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Frost again
(Not Robert. And _all_ roads in Vermont are less-traveled-by, or were when he lived there...)
Frosty when I walked to get the newspaper, fog down in the river valley and then drifting up to our street. Leaves finally changing on the side-yard maple. Autumn is upon us. Mowed the lawn yesterday, perhaps for the last time this year. We'll see.
I may drive out to an orchard for a gallon of cider and a peck of Greening apples, ritual objects for the turning season. With both sons moved out, we don't have the functional necessity for such things, but, like with a pumpkin, they still seem needful.
May skip the pumpkin this year. Thus do we attack hidebound tradition.
Frosty when I walked to get the newspaper, fog down in the river valley and then drifting up to our street. Leaves finally changing on the side-yard maple. Autumn is upon us. Mowed the lawn yesterday, perhaps for the last time this year. We'll see.
I may drive out to an orchard for a gallon of cider and a peck of Greening apples, ritual objects for the turning season. With both sons moved out, we don't have the functional necessity for such things, but, like with a pumpkin, they still seem needful.
May skip the pumpkin this year. Thus do we attack hidebound tradition.