The unsexy Autumn, the one of grey skies, biting winds, and near-freezing morning temperatures, arrived this weekend in the part of New England where we live. Our oil furnace, which had a quiet summer (and at almost six bucks a gallon for oil, thanks, Mr. Art of the Deal, for which I'm grateful), was working away when I awoke Sunday morning to what appeared to be our first frost of the season.
We have a persnickety radiator in the bathroom that works when it feels like it and has no relationship to the temperature of the house or the output of the furnace, but it was hot to the touch as my morning began, and I smiled because it doesn't happen that often.
I also smiled because I'm hoping it saves me an extra visit from the folks who provide our oil and service our furnace, who have, on occasion in the past, had to send out the radiator whisperer to tweak the balky device and get it to work (until the next cold spell).
Sunday's skies were clear and so deeply blue you could get lost staring into them. It made the colors of the leaves still on the trees seem even more vibrant when serving as a background. I've never been a fan of leaf-peeping, mainly because of what happens after all the leaves are peeped, but it was still lovely enough even for a curmudgeon like me to appreciate.
We had middle sixty-degree temperatures last week, but this weekend we were in the high forty and low fifty area, which the meteorologists tell me is where we should be. I think I should be where the weather suits my clothes and doesn't hurt my face when I'm out walking in it.
Still, grateful for all four seasons and the opportunity to enjoy them.
-bill kenny
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