The mornings are telling me fall is here

There's a moment every year when I step outside with my coffee and just know. Nobody tells you, there's no date on the calendar, but the air is different. This morning was that morning.

The valley was full of fog, soft and blue, with only the tops of the pines poking through. The sky turned pink and gold over the hills, and for a few minutes everything was completely still. Even the hens were quiet (for once ;) ).

The morning glories don't seem to have gotten the memo yet. They're still climbing over everything and opening their blue and pink flowers like it's July. I'm enjoying every last one, because I know they won't be around much longer.

Down in the garden, the summer beds are winding down and the fall crops are taking over. The cabbages and broccoli have exploded, with those big blue-green leaves spilling out of the raised beds and onto the path. It's funny how the garden changes its whole personality in just a few weeks.

We've also lit the first fire in the wood stove, and that's always my signal to start getting ready for winter. Firewood, the pantry, the garden, the hens. But for now I'm just going to stand here a little longer, coffee in hand, and watch the fog lift.

How do you know when the seasons are changing where you are? I'd love to hear in the comments.