Yesterday was apple-picking day here. We headed out to the local orchard, grabbed a couple of wagons and half-bushel bags, and received the super-secret directions from the owners about where the unpicked trees were. I managed to grab a couple of pictures while we were there. The trees were at the absolute peak of their fall glory, and the wind that blew across the hillside smelled of snow headed our way. It was glorious, and I found that there is something very spiritually satisfying to hand-pick fruit that I will help preserve for my family’s enjoyment this winter.
…and one day later, we woke up to a hard frost. It was 25 degrees this morning, and we had to de-ice the windshield before we left for church. The fields around the house were frosted in white, and a wind had come through and had blown many of the leaves from the trees. After our church service was concluded, a sudden cry resounded among the children: “SNOW!”
Ok, it’s October 18. This is the earliest that I have witnessed snow at this low altitude, but the white stuff was indeed flying. Granted, it is too warm for it to stick, but there it was nonetheless. The following picture doesn’t capture the snow well, but the white flecks and haze in the air is a snow squall in progress.
It is nature’s way of warning us that, in the words of the current meme, “winter is coming.” Now that we have our apples and the house is nearly sealed up for the year, we’re ready.