There's a skiff of snow on the lawn, the roof, the streets. We've dipped down into the minus temperatures and the sky is the colour of your face when you're very, very afraid. But the grass is still green and there are floridly orange leaves clinging to the shivering branches of the apple tree in my backyard.
It's too early to lament the coming of winter, but fall is definitely on its deathbed.
Send flowers and say your goodbyes.