Fall

It was the end of a perfect day and our favorite view was especially beautiful at dusk. Not that you can tell it's autumn from this picture: one of the great things about the ocean is that a particular scene can be almost the same in all seasons. (Or it can be amazingly different.) Outside the camera's eye there's the browning grass and the decaying gardens and the falling yellowed birch leaves, but the picture still gives us summer or spring, a useful fantasy as we face the darkness and uncertainty of winter.

Things seem to fall in October, leaves, spirits, markets. I happen to think Maine is pretty damn nice all year round but can't deny how special summer is. But rejoice! Last week, after only 14 years of living with the wood stove, I at last read the owner's manual in some detail and figured out how to distinguish an updraft fire from a horizontal fire, how to manipulate the damper and the air supply and the thermostat at the back, and not incidentally (duh!) how to make the house much warmer with much less wood. Nothing like a crisis (the propane bill had just arrived) to bring out the best in us. Bring it on, winter - we're going to be cozy, less sweatered, and less poor.