Foggy and Fair

The air this morning felt more like spring than fall. The light was incredible, and probably impossible to ever capture in an image. The sky was dimly light and a thick fog was settled over everything, with a deeper haze down in the lowest part of the field where the water runs through it. The silhouettes of the bare trees were striking against the milky sky, especially the old chestnut tree on the hill at the old Emerson place. The air was marked by strong skunk smells, which is another springtime smell - not so much in fall. It was a beautiful way to start the day. Again. When the sun finally did peek above the horizon, the streaks of pink fog that shone through the breaks in the shadows from the trees were spectacular.
We're close to breaking the record in Maine for the warmest November in history, and while there are definite downsides to this warmth (more germs and less wool) the positives are definitely winning out - with number one the quiet furnace followed immediately by fewer plowing bills.  Of course, there's a flip side to this, as there is to everything - the doctors who are treating all these viruses probably find the increase in germs a good thing in their world, and my friends who plow are none too pleased. I think the majority of people are happy however...
I saw a wooly bear caterpillar the other morning, and its brown band around the middle was pretty wide; folklore suggests that this is a sign of a mild winter ahead. Who knows? Unlike last year, the leaves are raked and composted and deck furniture is all stored before the first real snow. This slow ease into winter has been helpful in terms of preparing, so when one of these mornings the air smacks me in the face as we head out for our ritual morning walk to the ocean, I should be ready.