It's too late to go to bed "early" but too early for temperatures to be in the upper 30's (and dropping fast). It seemed awfully chilly when I let the red puppy out for one last time around the yard before retiring to her kennel cave for the night. But I was surprised to note that it is 38 degrees.... already. The moon is completely full and so clear it surely sings. I can hear the coyotes voicing their mournful songs way off in the distance and my breath shows itself in little puffs around my face when I sigh. It's going to be a cold one and I once again wish that my mountain boy were home to keep me warm on the first real night of fall.
Because anything left outside will certainly freeze, I quickly shift six pots of important plants that-I-just-couldn't-bear-to-loose, one at a time, into the warm kitchen. If we lived in the city, I'd have to explain my actions to the neighbors the next time I bumped into them. I'd have to tell them how I had several important plants that-I-just-couldn't-bear-to-loose on the porch that wouldn't make the night and they all had to come into the house at almost midnight. Because I didn't know it was going to freeze, again. So soon in the fall.
But since we live in the country, no one is watching and I can tippy-toe out onto the almost freezing cold porch in my bathrobe and wool socks to rescue a few scraggly plants that mean nothing to anyone......but me. And since we live in the country, I don't need to explain anything to anyone because no one is watching. And if my mountain boy were home, I wouldn't have to explain to him either. Not because he doesn't care but because he'd already know.