In the Northern hemisphere, the days are growing shorter, colder. In the alpine regions, the snow creeps stealthily down towards the valley floors. It thinks I haven’t noticed, but tomorrow I’ll go sit on my porch and shake my fist at it, yelling “Stay off my lawn!”
It might work.
Yes, it’s cold here. Advance scouts of winter linger in morning shadows, biding their time. Soon, this land will be theirs, but not today.
“Stay off my lawn!”
I bring you images of frost, from a higher elevation. . .