Jessica took this shot out of our front window the other morning (or maybe Emma did; she’s into photography). You can see the snow has already moved into the high country, including the cliffs and long rocky slopes of Wanderer’s Peak. (That’s my mountain; but I let others visit it when they want to.) You can also see the line of mist that’s suspended above the river; most fall mornings it’s settled down into the channel, but not today.

There’s an old ditty that says

Red sky at night, sailor’s delight;
Red sky in morning, sailors take warning.

That’s because a red sunset indicates a westerly wind, bringing calm weather; while a red sunrise indicates atmospheric winds moving east to west, usually presaging stormy weather. Snow is predicted for tomorrow. Let it come! We’re ready.

There is a scripture that says, “If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear.” That is sure true. After a summer of hard work, our harvest is in, our outside stuff is secure,* and we have twice as much firewood as we had last year. That’s a good feeling. It must be one reason I love fall more than any other season (but only while I’m in it; the other seasons are pretty terrific too for their own reasons). Fall always produces a feeling of snugness, the delightful sensation of readiness for the long dark winter ahead.

Every now and again I re-read Laura Ingalls Wilder’s book The Long Winter. It always gives me pause. Would I be ready for such terrible conditions as they passed through? You can never know exactly until you encounter it; but I think we’re prepareder this year than we’ve ever been.

I hope to say the same next year as well. Yahoo!

*Except for the greenhouse. Hm. Have to do that Saturday, sometime in between going deer hunting with John and fixing Dexter’s hood and fender, some six months after the Flying Deer incident (finally!).