Friday, September 26, 2008

No More Mosquitoes? Must Be Autumn


It is autumn here in the White Mountains.
The top ten reasons I know this:

10. Elks are bugling in the wilderness beyond my back yard, mingling with the plaintive cries of coyotes

9. The hummingbirds are all going south – my feeder has been full for two weeks now, unheard of in summer when the greedy little bastards fought over sugar water tinted red

8. Nights are down into the 40 degrees and sometimes we have to turn on the pellet stove in the early morning hours

7. The dogs are shedding less and thickening their coats (hallelujah, I’m sick of vacuuming)

6. The mosquitoes have all but disappeared (another hallelujah, sick of buying mosquito pads for my Off candle)

5. It’s dark at six o’clock (not particularly good when you want to enjoy the great outdoors and read a book at the same time, my favorite hobby)

4. High school football games are on the local radio station every Friday night

3. NFL football games are on every Sunday and Monday

2. Outdoor plants are starting to go dormant and trees aren’t producing any more leaves

And the number one reason I know it’s fall in the White Mountains? * Drum roll *

1. I keep a sweater at the ready for cool temperatures – like when I step out of the shower all damp. Like seven o’clock in the morning when the sun fully rises and the temperature is actually coldest…Brrr…

And to think a year ago I was in Mesa (Phoenix) and sweltering. Yeah, I’ll take sweaters over triple digits right now any day.

The entire reason this post came to my mind was because I was doing a Google search on wild violets. Apparently, folks back east categorize wild violets in their yard as an invasive weed.

Me – I’ve got them all over my front yard. And I love ‘em. I think they’re beautiful. In fact, when I weed eat, I cut a wide swatch around ‘em. I’d love to grow them indoors. My one attempt at doing this was pitiful so if you’ve got any advice for me, feel free to advise away in your comments. I really want to save my wild violets before they die from frostbite.

Ramblings from Arizona's White Mountains,
Candace

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