The air behind the coming front is COLD.[Birds chirping. Soft rumble of an occasional car on the road in the distance.] It is 8:20 am in the morning. I am sitting on my front porch in soft, toasty sunlight. The temp is 62°F. The sky is blue and mostly clear, with scarcely a breeze. I'm enjoying my breakfast of black coffee and a cigar.
[Birds go suddenly silent. Cue ominous music. Stripes of high cirrus clouds slowly enter stage right.] Starting tonight, I will be experiencing December/January weather through the end of November. I cannot complain. The hurricane that caused so much damage to my south, passed by yesterday as a rainy remnant, failing to leave even a puddle in my driveway, or a fallen twig in my yard.