The trees are mostly barren now, their spectacular colors swept into breezy drifts of crinkled mounds of yellow and orange and red; onto the grass, the drive, hither and yon. We had such a glorious fall here on the Cutoff, I know, but today I felt the first bite of winter nipping at my heels.
We still haven’t had a hard frost, but the air has turned colder. Mornings are crisp and evening comes early with candles and lamplight guiding our way. The furnace has kicked on and I needed my gloves this morning as I started the car. Not for long. Just long enough to herald a change in seasons.
Soups and stews have replaced grilled chicken out on the deck and summer shirts and sandals have all been switched to winter sweaters and cozy socks.
Oddly enough, today had the feel of snow coming. Temperatures reached fifty degrees, but the clouds were dramatic, heavy and grey with patches of blue here and there as the sun kept shifting its focus.
I thought of it all as I went about my day’s business. The cold, the dark, the comfort of home with its welcoming glow of light and warmth and comfort. As I thought my thoughts went again to all those on the East Coast who have battled the winds and waters and wrath of Hurricane Sandy. I thought of their unimaginable losses in the wet and cold and dark and fear, and I felt humble and hopeful all at the same time, thinking thoughts of recovery and comfort in the days and weeks and long months ahead for my countrymen and women to the east. My prayers are with them.
Ooh, what a sudden plunge into chill! The hurricane has been so devastating. The news is full of it – papers, radio and TV and I feel for everyone affected. It’s one of those times when it’s safer to be inland, as you are.
Your photo reminds me of a Utrillo painting, with that green-blue sky.
Keep warm and cosy Penny.
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I has been, Juliet. I know you understand there with the earthquake at Christchurch and how long it takes to rebuild, how tragic and challenging it is for all affected. We are far from the disaster here – a strong wind by the lake and a few storm clouds are nothing compared to this hurricane.
Thank you. I will look up Utrillo. The sky reminded me so of yesterday’s.
I will. Thank you – and enjoying your spring.
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This time of year the poem “Something Told The Wild Geese” by Rachel Field always comes to mind. The first four lines,
“Something told the wild geese
it was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered, “Snow.”
And the last two…
“Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.”
As the cold winter sneaks up on us, our prayers are with those in the East. Prayers for physical and spiritual strength, courage, and hope. Americans are very resilient and will persevere.
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Oh, Janet, I love that poem. I have it in a book with Tasha Tudor’s beautiful illustration. Now I will need to pull it out and enjoy it again. Thank you for mentioning it.
You put it all so well, dear friend. Thank you.
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It’s hard to imagine how these things can shake a person. For decades, I’ve watched every storm that’s come anywhere close to us with wide-eyed fear, because, living through Hurricane Hugo, I know that they can do. It is an unsettling event that never leaves you. After life goes on. Even after you clean up and get rid of the destruction. You see how fragile everything is, how it can be wiped away in one shrieking few hours, and living takes on new meaning.
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Once one has lived through such forces of nature, it is hard to ever forget. Hugo was a fierce foe. I remember seeing all that destruction and can only imagine living through it and the lifetime of after affects. Life is fragile, indeed. I’m sure Hurricane Sandy brings it all back to now, Andra.
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Penny, even on this side of the ocean, I’ve been watching the impact of Hurricane Sandy unfolding on my computer screen and my American blog friends have been in my thoughts and prayers.
I know just what you mean about the change of the season.We had frost last night and though we still have some leaves on the trees, winter is just round the corner. Amazingly I recognised the style of the painter of your illustration as I just read a post about him a few minutes ago. 🙂
http://wherefivevalleysmeet.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/john-atkinson-grimshaw-painter-1836-1893.html
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While we are far from the impact, our hearts go out to all who have been devastated by the hurricane. It is a great comfort to know our friends across the pond are praying, Perpetua.
Thank you so much for the link, Perpetua. I immediately clicked on to check it out and spent some time absorbing such a wonderful blog and the post on Atkinson Grimshaw. I discovered him quite by accident yesterday and instantly loved his style and was in awe of his body of work. Wonders to take in as winter approaches.
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Beautiful post, and something which is travelling through all of our thoughts, Penny. Hope everyone manages to regain a level of comfort soon…
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It has been so devastating to watch, Kate. As relief, then food and power and shelter and all those things begin to sift into the areas affected, things will slowly improve. It will take a long time. Please know that thoughts and prayers from our friends on your island are greatly appreciated.
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Dear Penny, I’ve never lived in a disaster area, but the television news last evening showed us such graphic pictures of the devastation along the East Coast. The governor of New Jersey had his arm around one woman and she was sobbing and saying that everything she had was “ruined.” Her face was weary. Tired. Hopeless.
I so hope. And pray. That FEMA and all of us who are fellow dwellers on Earth will reach out to those in need. We are One in this as in all things.
My heart also has been heavy and so I cooked today. (My mantra tends to be “When in doubt, cook.”) Roasted veggies as a side dish and a potato-leek-cheese soup that is quite delicious. How cold some of the residents of the East Coast must be. The temperatures are low there and there’s no electricity. I thought of them as I ate that soup and hoped that soon they would find the warmth of human kindness. Peace.
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I know, Dee. It has all been so heartbreaking to watch. Those of us who haven’t personally experienced such disasters are fortunate and we need to show compassion and help in ways we can.
I hope along with you, Dee.
I smiled at your mantra, one I often chant myself. Your veggies and soup sound so warm and hearty and delectable. I hope that some nourishment finds its way to the East Coast. Peace to you as well.
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Penny, how true. To be facing all that destruction and chaos in the months before the holidays and also when we like to stay home and be cozy, it must be so difficult. Thanks for such a thoughtful and kind post. I hope that the recovery takes less time than the experts are predicting, and that those affected get back into their homes or new homes soon!
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Oh, Sunday, I do too. For so many, new homes are to be found, new clothes and food and on and on. Let’s hope that recovery is fast, complete, and timely. Thank you for your words here.
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Such a lovely comforting wish for those suffering from the effects Sandy. And a warm and comforting tribute to the joys of cooler weather as well.
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A miniscule thing for me to do, Sallie, but the words just needed to flow. Here is hoping those in the devastated areas find comfort and warmth soon.
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Beautifully said. The footage of the hurricane here in the UK has been errifying. Let’s hope the people on the East Coast have a speedy recovery.
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I hope and pray it is a quickly a recovery as humanly possible, Nicola. My heart just goes out to them all. Thank you for your kind comments.
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It continues to be heartbreaking to watch. I have friends and family on the east coast, but they are fortunately north and south of the devastated areas. Now tonight they are saying another storm is predicted. And the stories coming through about the loss of life is particularly tragic.
And yet we do have to go through our daily paces. It can feel very strange when you stop to consider that truth juxtaposed against what so many are experiencing. I hope that your weekend is enjoyable, Penny. The weather you describe is very, very appealing to me! 🙂
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It is so heartbreaking, Debra. I hope you family and friends stay safe from the latest storm brewing, as well as all on the east coast. Such bookends are two coasts are, the east right now with the devastation of wind and water, and your west coast with its heat and dryness.
And you as well, Debra. It is cold here this morning, 34°, bright, sunny, and invigorating, but, we are safe and warm and grateful for it. I do hope you get some relief soon.
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You have captured the change from fall to winter perfectly. Thank you for that.
I don’t have a television so although I know of Superstorm Sandy and her terrifying wrath, I don’t have images of her destruction in my head. I am grateful for that and the fact that we only had a cloudy day with a little rain as she swept up the East Coast.
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That is very kind of you to say, Belle. Thank you.
Sometimes the images we conjure up in our own minds are just as horrible as what we see on a television screen. It is good to know that only clouds came your way and we can hope that all those that we hit by Hurricane Sandy get the help they need.
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This is such a poetic post and what a lovely photo! We did have a wonderful autumn and I too thought of those poor people on the East Coast as our weather turned so cold and them dealing with both the devastation of the hurricane and the cold on top of it.
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Thank you, Janet. That is actually a painting, which attests to the artist’s talent. Atkinson Grimshaw. I just discovered him. The cold seemed like just so much more for the East Coast to bear, didn’t it, and still, they are trying to put their lives back together.
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