Our first deep frost of the season occurred last night, and with it a thundering wind to rock the window panes and confuse the light over our larger garden shed so every time the wind whooshed the light came on, then shut off again. When I woke sleepily in the wee hours and saw the flashing on-and-off through our bedroom windows, lighting up spectacularly, I thought we were in the throes of a thunderstorm.

Yesterday was quite the zinger of a day, lavishing upon on in a twelve-hour period everything that nature could summon up to thoroughly confuse us. In the morning, although it was cold and windy just hovering over the freezing mark, it was also sunny and consequently bright. But that didn't last, as soon clouds moved in, and they were well rimmed with bruised-looking purples and charcoal greys. There was an obvious threat of rain, but we set out in the early afternoon for one of our ravine hikes regardless.

We were bundled up against the cold and the wind, and bore in mind the likelihood of rain, so we wore rainproof gear, all of us. The wind has done a ripping good job of coaxing fall foliage down from the trees they were perched upon, in glorious shades of yellow, gold, pale orange and pink. Now all that colour is at down-cast eye-level and the forest canopy is beginning to take on a barren look that we ordinarily link to the month of November. Clearly, this October is nothing like last year's when the weather was downright balmy and pleasurable beyond belief.

There was no reason whatever not to enjoy our ravine ramble yesterday, plenty to look at, lots to discuss, and Jackie and Jillie engaged in their usual runabouts and forays here and there sniffing out interesting things we often order them to leave because though interesting to them, they're rather disgusting in nature. So much for doggy aesthetic discernment.

When we arrived back home, as soon as we entered the house, rain did come down; thoroughly and briefly. But the incessant strong winds made quick work of drying everything off in short order. So, leaving  Jackie and Jillie in the house, we went out ourselves to do a little work in the garden. For my husband the task at hand was mowing the lawn, and raking up fallen leaves. For me, it was a continuation of my ongoing work cleaning up the gardens, and I had plenty left to do.

When we'd been out about an hour suddenly rain began again, but the rain became sleet, then small bits of frozen ice, and finally snow. And it hit hard, pinging and bouncing off everything; more like hail, but so minuscule it looked like snow, while feeling like hail. We continued what we were busy with, and the flood of hail began accumulating, though it swiftly enough melted; our first sight of winter-to-come.

When we made our way back into the house, outdoor labours completed for the time being, I felt it would be more than appropriate to have a good hot soup for dinner, so began preparing a split-pea soup to cook on the stove and send its cooking fragrance through the house until dinnertime. And I baked a cheesy cornbread to go with a serving of little oily fish sprats, and for dessert we had wonderful-tasting fresh strawberries. Super warming fuel on a quasi-winter day in October.