The wind is getting crisp now. The air falls to frosting temperatures at night. My wool sweater has been pulled out of the closet again. It only lies in there a few months of the year and I hold out as long as I can before bringing it out again. But this summer has been so dreadfully cloudy and rainy, fall has come on quicker than usual. I keep hoping for a sunny day to warm the atmosphere again. But such hopes are quickly dashed by rain showers. So instead of moping at summers quick end, I'll take in the chilled feeling. The tundra is turning beautiful shades of red, pink, purple, orange, and yellow. It mimicks the early stages of a sparking fire. If only it burned with warmth. Perhaps then this cold would not bite so sharply at my nose.
