It is fantastically gorgeous today, and I have to admit that I either wasn't paying attention or they were a little bit off with their prediction, because I just did not expect it. Anyway, it beautiful, one of those fall days that around here we don't necessarily get all that often, when there are still leaves on the trees and some on the ground and it smells like fall but it is like 72º outside. Anyway, it is one of those days and I am trying to enjoy it as much as I can being chained to a desk in a basement office, but I can't help wondering if this is what is going to account for our Indian Summer this year.
For those of you who are not familiar with the concept of Indian Summer, I am not going to explain it to you. Wikipedia can do that for you, you lazy bastard. I know it is early but it also got cold and rainy early, so I am worried that everything is moved up. And if this is Indian Summer I am not sure that I am comfortable with that.
See, aside for the fact that Indian Summer gives all of the people in the northern reaches of the US one last taste of summer before the snows and cold set in, it also gives us an incredible amount of hope. We are not stupid, despite what you might want to believe. We feel the change in the air, we can read a calendar, and for the most part we know what we just went through and we know what is coming: six-ish months of leafless trees, dead grass, cold temperatures, and snow laced with dirt, sand, and garbage covering everything, and nobody wants that. So we love Indian Summer. We crave Indian Summer. We dream about Indian Summer while we are outside at night covering our tomatoes and petunias with straw, and while we are pulling mothballs out of the pockets of our winter clothes that have been in storage.
And so it goes, but when we get a one-day sort of glimpse of the past, and that is all she wrote for Indian Summer, then that is no good. No good at all. So here we sit and wait for warmer things to come. And hope that we can stave off winter for one more day.