Yesterday was 85°F in the afternoon, and the Sun lit up the bright fall colors. At 10:00 PM I was standing around outside in shirt sleeves.

This morning it’s 38°F, and according to the automated system at the airport the wind chill is 27. The skies are leaden, and the big field pecan tree on the fenceline is completely bare, as are most of the other trees. This year was a better than average one for fall foliage, but that’s all over now. I’m reminded about the old Texas tall tale about the cowboy who saw a “blue norther” coming in, and rushed back to the bunkhouse. When he got there his horse fell over dead — back half frozen, front half of heat prostration.

Winter is icumen in, lhude synge — something.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!