Last evening, after a long day at work and a meeting at the high school regarding winter sports, Daughter and I arrived home just as the sun was setting.
(By the way, we're only a few meets into the fall cross country season, and all of a sudden we're talking about basketball, and why are we talking about winter and winter sports when it's only the first day of fall-- and why does summer ever even have to end? Ever?)
Since I had absolutely no new pictures and
The next two below were taken facing west--the house, which belongs to my parents,
is known as Waverly.
|This is looking north from their yard.|
|This is facing east towards Queens Creek and Gwynns Island.|
The temperatures this first full day of fall were a little on the chilly side. It was 57 when I pulled in to work this morning.
I'm not vehemently opposed to this particular time of year; in fact, it's rather nice sleeping with the sliding doors open and not having to run the air conditioner.
But all of this buildup of cool temperatures, brisk nights, leaves starting to drop--plus tonight's winter
basketball meeting--reminds me that hibernation season is just around the corner.
Only I'm not allowed to hibernate.
If I ever live long enough to retire from my job--I think I have ten years. three and a half months, two hours, sixteen minutes and seven seconds until I'm eligible but who's counting--I might seriously contemplate leaving the state of Virginia from November through March. I think I'd do just fine living in a tent in a campground on Key Largo during that time. And if for whatever reason I can't temporarily move to Florida, I do intend to close all the drapes, turn off the phone and sleep until spring.
Since neither one of those options is available this year, however, it looks like I need to continue to focus on running and eating right. And napping, whenever possible.
This protracted discussion of the winter blahs has been brought to you by one full day of crisp, cool temperatures and one mere mention of winter at a meeting this evening. And also the Farmers' Almanac, which predicts "more shivery and shovelry" this winter.