Every year, usually on a day in October, the butter on the counter turns hard. All summer long it’s soft and spready, ready for toast. Then one day, it all changes. It’s firm and sure of itself. It defies spreading on soft bread. It knows winter is coming. It gets hard.
I’m wearing the same clothes inside that I wore last month. Jeans, a t-shirt, oh–I have socks on now. Maybe my feet also know. I didn’t think the temperature here inside the house had changed. It just seems the butter is always the first to know it’s time to start hunkering down. Fall is here. Winter is coming. Hang on, it’s getting cold out there!