Last night I dreamed I was driving in what appeared to be Seattle, on a road divided by green shrubbery. It took me three passes to find my intended intersection, because I kept turning against the flow of traffic. I suppose I’ve really made the switch here.
Rumour has it that summer’s over by Anzac Day (April 25).
It is refreshing to have a bit of change in the air, to be making soup and pulling out the wool sweaters.
Inside our double-brick walls, it is still cooler inside than out. Outside, it is still warmer at night than it is in Montana during the daytime. As if there could ever be a shortage, we are continually grasping at sunny days. Because, they tell us, Winter is Coming.
After summer in North America spilling into sumer in Australia, it’s hard to take seriously.
It gets dark now by 5:30. The only marked sign of winter.
The ocean feels a few degrees cooler.
The cabbages have germinated with very little care, and show no signs of wilting.