I'm not ready for this... not quite yet. I have crocus sativus and deep purple tulips to plant. There are lasagna beds to layer, annuals to clean up, lawn to edge, and leaves to rake.
I need to put up my storm windows--although admittedly I'm waiting for the cold to kill off my favorite seven-legged spider before I tackle that project. (I am gladly spending a couple of extra dollars with the gas man in exchange for the amusement of watching him spin his web in my leaded glass window.)
I'm really not ready for this... and yet I couldn't resist spending some time outside drinking in the cold, clear beauty of this first snowfall. The neighborhood was quiet, still, and crisply white. I could swear that there must be wonderful, mysterious things waiting to be found on the other side of each warmly lit window I passed on my walk... the houses all look "lovely, dark and deep." But these mysteries are not mine to discover, not this evening. Like Frost, I have promises to keep--and miles to go before I sleep.
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