November 13, 2018

White Dog went out with Steve to collect the newspaper early this morning and rushed in to the bedroom to nuzzle my hand and spur me in leaving the warm blankets.

"Wake up, momma! Today is the day!"

Our sycamore trees at the front of the house hold on to their leaves longer than any other trees on our block and oddly, decide to shed ALL of the leaves at one time in a whoosh of falling fury. We had been wondering when it would happen as the weather has turned cold and most of the other trees are nearly bare. But last night they still stubbornly clung to the branches.

Here it is a sort of celebration. At walk time tonight the White Dog Army will be given extra time to crunch and nose through the fallen blanket and the post walk treats will be pumpkin.

I find the change of light in the house in the late afternoon very different once the leaves are gone; the interplay of in and out takes on a colder brighter tone. It is another small reminder of the season's change.