From fall to winter in four days

We sailed into November with lovely fall weather in the Northland. Sunshine and warm temperatures were welcome and enjoyed, while everyone held their breath knowing we were running on borrowed time. On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving we even launched the boat and went fishing in open water – the latest fishing we’ve ever done in November. The next morning we awakened to a beautiful sunrise with bits of ice on the surface, especially near the shoreline. But the sun and the wind that blew across the lake caused the ice to break up during the day.

With a high temperature of 27 degrees on Friday there was more ice that formed on the lake surface. The wind blew throughout the day, but it wasn’t enough to break up all the ice. As the sun was setting there was more ice and less open water, resulting in some fascinating reflections in the lake surface.

Saturday morning dawned with clouds and cold, and a lake surface completely frozen over. The ice remained all day as the frigid temperatures settled in and the sunshine was intermittent.

And by Sunday there was a dusting of snow and continual snow showers throughout the day. The ground was hard and frozen, and the lake was solid ice – perhaps for the remainder of winter.

And just like that we transitioned from fall to winter in a short four days. Yes, we’ll see more temperatures above freezing and yes, we’ll see plenty more temps hovering around 0 degrees. But with this quick change of seasons I’m convinced even more we need to savor each day, appreciate the changes that take place, and embrace each season for all its beauty.

Into the fall forest

I spent the day hiking along a lake and then through the forest. It was a perfect fall day with a blue sky and warm temperatures. The sun was shining and the leaf colors had begun their change. Everywhere I looked I was amazed at the beauty surrounding me – wanting to take it all in and absorb the warmth that I know will be waning soon. After hiking a couple of miles, I sat down on a bench along the trail and decided to create an image that would reflect the way that I was surrounded by the trees, the colors, and the sunlight coming through the woods.

Dancing into fall

Fall has arrived on our doorstep. Days are getting shorter and there’s often a chill in the air, especially in the early mornings. The leaves on the trees are starting to show their various autumn shades of red, orange, and yellow. It’s not consistent but there are certainly many patches of brilliant colors. And some of the leaves are now on the ground and underfoot. The air even has a different smell to it.

As I was driving our back roads in search of fall colors, I found some of the ferns had become a lovely shade of copper brown. The longer and lower fronds had twirled inward as they dried. There was a lovely delicate shape to their curves, while the higher fronds seemed to be reaching out for one last dance before the first frost of fall.

Interrupted by Mother Nature

I’d had a busy day, with things to do, people to see, places to go. My mind was focused on all those things and the things I was reluctantly still not getting done. As I drove north I went through spotty rain showers – the hit and miss kind. Our drought has continued so I couldn’t bring myself to complain about the rain, although it certainly wasn’t part of my plans for my list of things needing to be finished.

When I arrived at the lake, it was still dripping rain. As I hurried with the things I wanted to get done I noticed the sun was peeking out and lighting up the opposite shore where the trees are loosing their summer green and are now in their various shades of fall green. The rain continued, and I was in my own world of thought when I turned to the northeast and saw a partial rainbow visible between the trees. By the time I walked to the dock I could see the entire arc of the rainbow filling the sky, and then a second arc appeared. Even though the rain continued and I was getting wetter by the minute, the double rainbow caught my attention and grounded me in that moment – of fleeting light and beauty and the appreciation of Mother Nature’s interruption.

A goal to savor summer

The last day of July – traditionally I’d think this marks a point of only one more month of summer. That summer is over half-way gone, and it’s time to scramble to pack in all the plans that are unrealized for this year. But maybe I should shift that approach and instead focus on savoring each and every day of this glorious, albeit short season.

I tried complaining about the excessive heat and humidity we had a week ago. Temps were in the 90’s, heat index was above 100, and there was no cooling down overnight. But then I tried to shift my focus – yes, I was still hot and I was sweating. I wasn’t able to sit outside to read, I wasn’t able to work in the gardens, and I found myself wandering inside to the comfort of air conditioning. But if I launched my kayak in the early morning I could take advantage of the coolest time of the day. And if I found a place to read in the shade and with maybe a light breeze, a tall glass of iced tea was a good accompaniment to my reading. And then when it was the late high-heat of the day and I was tempted to escape inside, I could walk to the beach and jump in the lake – a surely quick way to cool off!

So maybe, just maybe, my attitude needed the adjustment to summer. Rather than complaining about the heat and complaining about how quickly the months are going by, I could embrace and savor each summer’s day – the sun-drenched heat, the thunderstorms that roll through and give way to a bright rainbow, the fireflies that blink after the sun has set, the plethora of stars on a dark and hot summer’s night, and the opening in the clouds that was briefly painted in the late evening sky and reflected in the calm waters below.