Weather

Cath and I were sitting on the front porch having a cocktail last night when the front came through. It was about 6 PM. The wind and the weather were wild, and we could see it approaching through the trees. The yellow leaves of the Tulip Poplars whirled and wandered before landing at our feet.

One of the leaves landed nearby and I picked it up. The leaf had a sad face on it. It gave me pause as I turned it over in my hand. I thought about sadness and hope. I thought about life and death. I thought about living in the autumn of our years and all that means.  All of this was in the blink of an eye and then I was talking with Cathy again.

It was a strange storm. They had forecast it for anytime between 2 PM and 8 PM, but it stayed sunny all afternoon—until, in the early evening, it suddenly wasn’t.

 We sat there sipping our drinks and watched the weather whip in. Crazy stuff, with leaves flying everywhere as the temperature dropped ten degrees in a flash.

 Eventually, we retreated inside to a pot of Split Pea Soup simmering on the stove—the perfect antidote to the sudden chill. I’d made it a bit special that night: our local Giant recently had Ben’s Chili Bowl Half-Smokes for sale, and I thought they’d make a great substitute for our usual ham hock or smoked turkey leg in the soup. It turned out to be a wise and delicious decision.

 Just as we sat down for dinner, the sky opened up—raining cats, dogs, and everything else. It was good to be inside having warm soup and enjoying life. The Silver Oak we opened didn’t hurt, either. It turned out to be a fine Friday night.