Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop

There's no snow but the trees are bare. The temperature is in the single digits (C) but not to the freezing point. The squirrels scamper through the yard with their cheeks bulging but the call of the Canadian Geese are silenced, they have packed up and headed south. The colours are washed out, like a favorite pair of jeans that you hang on to even though they are thin and ragged. Winter's coming, he's just dawdling. It's not like Winter to be so sneaky. I suppose he's having way too much fun in other parts of the country to make his way here yet.