I knew it was coming. I felt it before I'd even checked the forecast. As the sun sank behind the pines last night, I scurried around the garden beds, gathering as many blossoms as I could to bring inside.
So even though it pained me to look out the back window at the frozen gardens this morning, here in the house I had the small comfort of all my rescued blooms in vases and pots and pitchers.
Really I don't mind this turn to the darker months. Here in Maine it is the best time to head to the woods or the beach or the mountain trails. Soon the last of the leaf peepers will climb back in their SUVs and head for warmer states, and we will have all this beauty to ourselves again until next June.
And this turn outside means it's time for the turn inward, too. Time for fires in the fireplace, candles on the mantle, cups of tea, and thick books to read. I've piled up the warm blankets and taken my sweaters out of storage. And there's still plenty to do in the garden--bulbs to plant and leaves to rake and beds to prepare for the long, cold winter to come.