Autumn comes early in the mountains

It's been overcast all day, and the wind's picked up quite a bit. Even a few hours after having breakfast, I've been checking the clock to see if it's time to start making dinner yet. Up here in the  mountains, the tail end of summer is always nipped off too soon by fall, which comes rich with the suggestion of both beginnings and endings. After finishing various chores (yet with many more still to go), I've curled up on the couch with the cat, a book, and a quilt. I'm reading a gothic right now, which fits the weather and timing perfectly. It's fun enough for a summer read, yet possesses the thrill and suspense that so superbly complements autumn. My toes are chilly from being exposed, and as I tuck them under the blanket I am considering closing a door or two to prevent the wind and increasingly cool evening from slipping in. But then, why postpone the inevitable? Fall's coming. It's a good season. One that I rarely give enough credit to.