White Dog came in and buried her VERY cold nose on my bare shoulder. "Welcome to winter!" she crowed. "It is 23 degrees F here in the Duke City. Hope you have your sweatshirt at the ready!"
The Little White Dog of My Heart was not kidding; overnight the temperatures plummeted from pleasant long-sleeve Autumn to gloves and winter coat time. The mulberry trees that just days ago were rich green and showed no signs of shedding, this morning were dropping battalions of shocked leaves to the ground. White Dog went out to inspect the covered front yard; Zsofia watched, fascinated from the window as the leaves rained down and skittered across the drive.