Autumn Panic
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Hi, I'm Bryan Yeaton and this is The Weather Notebook.

The fall--with its blazing, brilliant colors---is one of New England's most glorious seasons. However, for some residents--like commentator Ruth Cash-Smith, the fall sends waves of panic for what's to come.

In Downeast Maine where the growing season is abysmally short, the first succulent ripe tomato in our garden often coincides with Jack Frost's initial visit. As flood tides swell to their highest points, my autumnal panic crests. We rush against the weather, mulching flowers beds, stacking wood, and raking leaves Mornings are downright nippy and green tomatoes glistening with frost lie alongside the pumpkins in the garden. Darkness arrives earlier each day. Our internal clocks shift, and we move meal times up an hour so we can turn in early, rising in darkness because the lazy sun has not yet awakened. As the blueberry barrens turn from green to scarlet and sienna and the larch tree needles turn yellow before they drop, the geese chorus a farewell, departing in one smooth formation, a dark vee against the cerulean sky. From experience, I know chapped lips, frozen tootsies, and stuffed noses will soon arrive. How I dread those treacherous walks to the mailbox on icy days soon to come.

That's commentator Ruth Cash-Smith of Dennysville, Maine. The Weather Notebook is a production of the Mount Washington Observatory, and is supported by Subaru. For glimpses of New England autumn, visit our website at mountwashington.org.