White Dog sat with me on the sunporch. "Doesn't it seem odd, momma," she said. "that it is the middle of November and we are sitting here with the front door open, listening to the leaves rustle? The leaves are still green, for goodness sake!"
YoYoMa looked up from where he was napping next to us. "And you have a problem with this? I for one am greatly enjoying the slow transfer of seasons."
I had to agree with both. Yes it is nice that the weather is still warm enough that we have not yet hunkered down, put the plastic sheeting on the sunporch windows, or zipped up the house for the winter. I have enjoyed not needing to turn on the furnace yet, although a couple of days were gentle reminders that the time is coming...but that is one of the side benefits of baking delightful pumpkin bread of roasting a turkey breast, the oven provides just enough of a warmup.
The Bradford Pear tree in the yard has gotten the message. And most of the trees on our block have dropped their leaves. But the three ancient mulberry trees that shelter the entire front of our house seem oblivious to the calender as they shake their still green leaves. My sadness will come that morning I awaken to find that frost has delivered its blow and overnight the trees have shuddered their leaves into yellow and dropped them all to the ground. Their sudden nakedness will seem a bit embarrassing although White Dog loves to bring the colored and curled leaves to me. Zsofia, I am certain, will find the new earth covering a wonder and a delight and in her I may find a smile that makes the change bittersweet.
I read today that our area is due to be hit with a cold snap and winter storm front to these golden days of sitting peaceably on the porch with the White Ones may soon give way to snuggling under the quilt together.