All the leaves are brown and the sky is gray.
The lake reflects the pewter color of the sky. Brown leaves carpet the ground, with here and there a maple leaf glowing golden yellow as candle light, or red, scarlet, crimson as a small ember.
Yesterday afternoon, one brave bunny ventured out of his snug, fur-lined nest, and promptly got chased by the dogs for his trouble. One lone squirrel uncoiled from the eiderdown soft comfort of his bushy tail, and chittered at us as we walked by.
It's been raining for two days, non-stop. Slow, soaking rain, just what we need in the time of drought. The lake is up a few inches, which is encouraging.
From the windows that run across the back of the cabin, we can see the spot where paper-white narcissus cast their sweet fragrance in spring. Further along, daffodils will lift their golden trumpets, and the spear-tipped leaves of the iris will herald their purple and white blooms, showing their velvety throats as they blossom.
From this cold, dark, wet landscape life will erupt in just a few months. Perhaps we, too, need a time of cold to reflect, to meditate, to realize how blessed we are, and how much we will have to offer, when spring comes again.