We woke this morning to chilly toes and the smell of winter in the air. The kids drew pictures on the frost covered glass while the sun rose, and I dug out my heavy sweaters and noted only four pairs of socks free of holes. Another shift on the way; always a reminder of the bittersweet passing of time, yet also the promise of a clean slate and fresh possibilities. I wonder how I would find any rhythm if I lived somewhere without such distinct seasons. The weather provides so much of my life's structure, it's the datum against which I measure every move and change.
We've been celebrating a warm October, with all the freedom and ease that 70 degree days bring... but this new cold does feel just about right. I needed the slower pace; dark evenings spent reading, working, and cooking, instead of capturing every last minute of daylight, scraping together careless meals, and then racing to make bedtime. I'm hoping the children feel the change as well, and stay cozy in their beds just a little longer so we can all get some more sleep. Wishful thinking!