A few days ago, we went to bed, turned on the window air conditioner and slept soundly as the bedroom cooled off from the day’s heat. Early in the morning my husband heard the furnace kick on. Since the thermostat was set for 56 degrees F, this was surprising. No, the air conditioner hadn’t affected the furnace. Rather, in the night the outside weather had turned from Indian summer to full on fall. The change rapidly cooled the first floor and turned on the heat.
Only here have I ever experienced such dramatic changes in the seasons, but I have to expect it after 18 years of living in New England. Now the window air conditioners need to come out, the storm windows go up, additional weatherstripping applied around any loose windows, the snow shovels found, the ice melt readied and the sweaters retrieved from the downstairs closet. Thankfully my husband attends to all these chores except the clothing rotation. My job is to begin cooking stews, meat loaves, soups, pot roasts and squash. Once the temperature falls, these dishes suddenly seem very appealing after meals of salads and quick chicken recipes.
Snow seems unlikely for at least six more weeks, though we had a massive snow storm a few Halloweens ago which knocked out power for a week. I hope the leaves will fall before the snow starts. I hope the town collects the leaves before snow buries them until next spring. But I have no control over the weather. All I can do is turn off the air conditioner, turn on the furnace and look for the flannel sheets. It’s fall at last.