First Frost...

... 27° this October morning. The leaves in all of their fall glory have started to collect into piles of shimmering gold and burnt reds. The year seems to have sprinted into the autumn and now time has screeched into a startling halt, like the frozen crystals of dew on the rose buds in my garden, clenching my thoughts like two freight trains colliding. I should have expected the frost this morning as I walked through the streets of Manhattan yesterday afternoon. The crisp biting air, the cuddling softness of my favorite scarf, a deep jewel-toned turquoise that sets such a startling contrast to the fall colors around me that my sister knitted for me two Christmases ago...

I felt it then, remembered it then, whispering to me in that voice that we all hear but choose to ignore. I voiced it out loud yesterday as Heather and I walked through the bustling streets in the city and like a true friend does, dutifully ignored.

There are signs everywhere.

And then I awoke and heard the words, "There's frost this morning." I closed my eyes again and allowed myself to fall deeper under the warmth of the down comforter, hugged the cat closer to me as she grumbled her protest, and finally gave myself permission to remember...

My favorite season, autumn. The colors, the smells, the unexpected warmth found in the middle of all the promised chill. The beginning of a season of change, a magical transformation. A season of friendship, merriment, and family.