Here in Minneapolis, though, only around five inches fell. Schools remained open and life shuffled onward, albeit at a slow pace.
Trees that had yet to fully drop their leaves have done so overnight. Golden brown leaves flutter over a fresh bed of white earth as the winds whistled down from the north and sends them dancing across the lawns. Although the landscape still has the feel of fall, winter’s snowy hand has been raised. A warning.
Garden regrets and triumphs alike will sleep beneath their winter blankets of white.
Next year, every northern gardener must be muttering now.
There’s always next year!