Snow and Red Wheelbarrows

So much depends on a red wheelbarrow.

The weather here has been totally unacceptable this Fall. Of course, I give the season its temporal appellation, but in fact, there has been no Fall. On October 12 snow fell in some quantity and it has begun to snow again this morning. The temperature has not risen above forty degrees in a week, and the leaves are not turning brilliant colors on crisp sunny days, but falling defeated in shades of monkish brown. It isn't yet mid-October!

And this year I could have used a pleasant Fall. It would have cheered me to note the brilliance of leaves even as they fade away; I would have liked to recall Thoreau’s praise of the leaves fallen to the ground ready to fertilize next year’s growth; I would have liked to remain outside at the waning of the year. As it is, I am too long at meetings. I think too long about my health and well-being, and worry too much at prospects of long-term care.

The sun might yet return and color the leaves and warm my bloods, but the early snow has set the terms for the imminent future: cloudy with a certainty of cold.