The first foggy day of fall*

The boardwalk along our lawn meanders off into the mist.

The boardwalk along our lawn meanders off into the mist.

Summer’s officially over. How can I be so sure? Because, like clockwork, as soon as the calendar flicks over to March, the fog rolls in around the Hunua Ranges and we wake here to a marvellous cloak of mist every morning. It’s all rather poetic, even if it does mean that it’s time to shake the spiders out of my gumboots again. I can no longer sneak out to feed the chooks each morning wearing my jandals. The dew-drenched grass is super slippery when wet.

(*I realise it’s actually autumn here in New Zealand, but I can’t resist a bit of alliteration).

The view through the cherry arch down to the arena garden.

The view through the cherry arch down to the arena garden.

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