An Early Morning Festivus Walk

I was surprised this morning when I got up (5:30) and saw that it was 52° out. I wasn't looking forward to walking on the treadmill and I knew there was to be a front coming through with the wind changing to the Northwest and blustering at 30-40+ miles per hour. "What if I went outside to walk right now?" I left a note for HD in case he got up and wondered where I was, grabbed Stix and went out - prudently taking I.D. and my cell phone, of course.

It was dark out, but my kind of dark - eerie, spooky with silhouetted bare branches. 

 The red lights atop the Creston water tower added their own mysteriousness.

As do the blue lights on this RV. I presume these are Christmas lights. From a high of fourteen RV's here this summer, we are down to five. These are the homes of the people constructing the wind turbines North and West of town. One of the guys still here has Oregon license plates on his pickup. Everytime I see them, I get homesick to see my Portland daughter. Thank goodness for facetime.

Almost to the end of my mile and there is just a hint of purple preceding the sunrise off to the southeast.

There aren't a lot of Christmas lights this year. Neighbors across the street have outlined their carport and deck in lights.

As has the homeowner next to them. I like the white lights better than colored ones. These make me think of Chinese lanterns.

I had been back inside about 45 minutes when the front came through. The wind was strong enough to make me think of this summer's derecho. Temps have been falling rapidly. I'm glad I got outside when I did. It's so much more interesting than walking on a treadmill. 

Facebook memories remind me of past Festivus lunches with visits from children and grandchildren. I am so looking forward to being able to do that again. Next year?

We did have a Festivus Eve zoom meeting with our NYC kids last night which was a lot of fun.

And Chirstmas pictures of the great-grands are starting to show up like this of Brynley with Santa, but it's just not the same. Next year, next year, next year - my mantra and fondest wish.