First Frost

This morning we awoke to the first killing frost of the season. The squash vines look very sad, leaving a sweet aroma of death and decay. The season moves on. I spent the morning splitting wood for the winter stove. Love the smell of new split wood. I realized, as I was picking up a freshly split piece and inhaling the aroma, that a naive looker-on might think I was some sort of weird p-rv-rt. Chuckled to myself and wearily chucked the wood onto the pile. My bones are getting old too.