Chilling out

One of the trees by the creek is starting to turn yellow: winter is coming to the winterless north, but oh so gently. I had hoped to write how I was using the sun oven to cook up windfall apples from our orchard but they had to go on the stovetop because the famous northland rain is floating down like it can't quite make the effort to form drops. And the sun which rose so promisingly in pink and gold bands across the hills this morning has disappeared and I am almost cold, chilly enough to put on long trousers for this first time since I moved up here. But not cold enough to light a fire, and besides the chimney hasn't been swept yet and I have a feeling swallows are nesting up there. The clouds are wrapping the hills which wrap the valley which wraps my little cottage and today feels like being cocooned in dandelion silk or possum fur, or downy feathers.