The promise of winter.
Cold... no, not cold.. crisp air blows dried leaves in a swirling dance. A dance of memories.
Memories of childhood as we threw ourselves into the piles of crunchy sweet smelling beds.
The fall breeze blows my hair across my face blocking the bright fall sunshine from my view. Sunshine that has a gentleness a different kind of colour ... one that gives the bare trees an almost haunting look.
The wind sounds different as well. blowing through and around the empty branches. The odd clump of dry leaves scraping each other as they shudder in the breeze.
You can hear the pine trees now - an almost melodic harmony as each wisp of air finds its way through the hallows.
As if the trees themselves are sighing.
The crispness of the air holds hints of summer past bringing fleeting images of warm days laying in green grasses. (or dirt and husky holes in my case)
I take a deep breath.
And I smell winter.
The smell of adventures that await me and my pups.
New trails, new sights.
Frost on the eyelashes snug in my winter coat fur laden hat wrapped around my head - flying across the snow with no sounds but the pattering of puppy paws and the 'shooshing' of the sled across the cold crystals of white.
But for now as I sit in my woolly sweater and face the fall sunshine, I will enjoy the freshness of the air and the promise of a new season.