First Snow
Last night it snowed. It’s not the first snow of the year, but it’s the first one that looks like it means it.
There is a very precise moment when fall turns into winter, one we usually miss because we have more pressing things to do, and this year it came early, at least compared to the weather patterns we’ve been accustomed to during the last decade.
Fortunately, the garden is ready for it; the leaves were raked and removed, the tender perennials moved indoors, the garden hoses stored and the tools cleaned and put away.
I’m twiddling my thumbs, in a dour mood, contemplating five months of dreary frozen landscape. Ye gods!
I didn’t get a late chance to plant bulbs before winter, so the ones that are already in the ground will have to do for next spring, but there’s a pot of narcissus bulbs ready to grace my windowsill in a garden center somewhere, and I need to go find them.