Usually in October I say goodbye to my garden for the season. I gather my last harvests. Cut as many flowers as I can before frost blackens the plants. It’s a bittersweet time of year.

When I woke up on Wednesday the temperature was 43. The warmest we’ve seen this year. On my morning walk I didn’t need a hat. Chickadees and cardinals sang their delight at the taste of spring in the air.

The next day it was more than 30 degrees colder.

Wednesday morning I woke up and checked the temperature. Negative 19 degrees Fahrenheit with a wind chill of negative thirty-two. It was our second day in a row of bitter cold.

Back in November I vowed to fall in love with winter. And I did, for a while.