The seasons are not being very seasonal this year. There were 80 degree temperatures to close out September, and the first snow of winter fell yesterday. Tonight, we are under a winter storm advisory. Unless I have done the time warp again, today is 11 October. This is not right.
One of the things that most makes the weather feel odd to me, is that it has interfered with my reading. Let me explain. There are certain books that carry very strong seasonal associations for me. And every year, since the first time I read it, I reread Sandman in the fall. It is an autumnal sort of book - I mean, one of the trade volumes is called "Season of Mists." I hadn't started yet this year, but I'm thinking that, as weird as it may be to reread "Sleep of the Just" with snow falling, maybe I ought to start tomorrow. At least that will make it feel like fall.