Wet, Dark, Cold Vermont

As if to prove my point in the previous post, today was dark, drab, damp, and dreadful, if you like nice weather.

Darlusz checks out frost-bitten, dead flowers and nearly leafless trees under an ominous, cold sky Sunday in St. Albans.

Personally, I didn’t mind so much. It gets quiet this time of year. The tourists are gone. The birds have flown south, too, so theres no activity out there. It’s just solemn, subdued.

Darlusz, the Polish frog who lives with me, shivered in the chill as I worked on my fall yard chores. It won’t all get done, but today was a good chance to do as much as I could.

“No bugs here to eat. Depressing out here in da yard. Let’s go in, stay warm,” Darlusz said.

I was plenty warm, digging holes to plant bulbs, working on my stone wall, cutting errant branches and saplings, you name it.

“You could help with the work out here and stay warm that way,” I suggested to Darlusz.

“I no dig. Dirt too cold now. Look, da rain and da sleet starting again. Dis no good,”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” I said. “I don’t mind if you go inside.”

Darlusz took me up on the offer.

I savored the subdued season on my own outside after that. I could feel winter at my doorstep, and working around the yard made me feel prepared for it, though nothing I was doing bolsters my defenses for winter.

It just made me feel better, out there under the low gray sky.  The damp, cold, still air  seemed to salve my lungs, give me energy and cut out the distractions.

Yes, I like nice, sunny weather. But November-like weather has its pleasures, too.

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