Relative Something

There will be a little break from my whining about how hot it is for this time of year because normal temperatures have returned for a while. In fact, the air temps made a jump from too hot all the way down to freezing in rather short order.

The horses were looking forward to the first rays of sunlight reaching them so they could soak up that solar warmth. The thickness of the frost was impressive in places, particularly on top of the wood post of the hay field fence.

I crouched down to get a shot of the frosty grass by holding my phone close to the ground. It wasn’t until I saw the image on my computer screen that I noticed there was one rogue grass blade standing tall among all the freshly mowed grass around it. How did that one dodge the cutting blade?

I have no idea. Ya gotta give it to that grass blade, though. It found a way to stand out among the crowd.

So, we are at the awkward season of transition between always thawed and usually frozen. Do we shut off all the outside water and drain everything now, or wait and risk being forced to do it all at once later, when the next string of cold nights arrives? We’ve decided to do a little of both. We have drained and rolled up some hoses to store for the winter. The landscape pond pump will continue to run for a while longer.

It’s a bit like deciding when to rake up leaves. Too early, and more will fall back onto the lawn. Too late, and they could freeze up and get buried by an early snowfall.

I’m not complaining (even though it may seem like I am) because the four changing seasons are one of the most wonderful aspects of living where we do. The challenges of the transition weeks are not a bug; they are a feature that builds character.

It’s funny to me that I forgot I needed to dress more warmly when I stepped out the door yesterday into the predawn frosty environment. Where are my insulated gloves, anyway? Oh, yeah, I forgot I have a fleece vest for cold weather. That reminds me, I bought new quilt-lined flannel shirts last year.

I think all that summer-like heat of the last few weeks lulled me into an aimless indifference about preparing for cooler weather. Last year at this time, we had just returned from Iceland, where I had packed all sorts of layers for outdoor adventures. I was already in cold-weather mode when we got home.

Frost is supposed to mark the end of the growing season. With luck, maybe I won’t need to do more than a few spot mowing sessions to finish off managing our grass growth once and for all in 2025.

Remind me to check on the status of our snow shovels soon.

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