Cuppa and I surprised ourselves a little bit yesterday. We drove to the cottage to pick up stuff that we couldn’t fit in the car after our extended-family vacation in August because the vehicle was too full of people. We went with our options open: return on the same day; stay overnight; or spend the weekend there. In our heads, option two, overnighting, was what we most expected to do. But with the weather being cold and windy, and comfortable beds at home awaiting, we hit the road home as soon as we loaded up Harriet the Chariot.
It was a good day for a drive, however. For most of the way, both coming and going, there was sun which lit up the tamaracks rather gloriously. And despite the fact that all of the other leaves had fallen, the oaks were still adamant about holding onto their bronze splendour. The drive home was especially pretty as the lowering sun cast the just the right angle of light.
On the way there, however, we saw a first — or two first, rather. We drove the extremely rural backroads, and at one point, I exclaimed to Cuppa that there was a fox trotting across the road up ahead. As we drew nearer, we saw that it was larger and darker and concluded that it was a wolf. Lightning struck a second time a little bit later. This time we got a closer look and decided that this was a coyote.
I suppose we could have been wrong both times, and they could have been regular run-of-the-mill dogs, but, given the backwoodsiness of the geography, neither of us really believe that. Both of these sightings are extremely rare; in fact, having never seen either before, it seems almost miraculously serendipitous as well as synchronous to witness both.
This morning, however, nature’s other shoe dropped as we awoke to the season’s first snowfall. Yes, it snowed overnight: so lightly that it could only be seen on bare rooftops and not the ground. Nevertheless, it was snow. Sigh: it could be a long winter.