I would swear it if you asked, there was a scent in the air today, of winter, of an impending storm, or is this my mind influencing my senses? the slight gray haze of a pubescent frost on my lawn, the still, the stillness of it all, little birds puffed up and huddled under the solar panels perched on my neighbor’s roof, I can see my breath with a pause, but there is some undercurrent there, a scent, a hint, almost like the pleasant aroma of burning logs, or slight sweet rot, but more faint, an invitation to imagination, a thumbprint of the coming front, I might say I feel it in my bones, but I do not, but ‘something’ is tipping me off, can I perceive the genesis of the coming falling flake frost? I would swear on it if you asked, but if tasked I can not perfectly put my finger on it as it is more an experience in sense… I just know, snow is coming, variety and shape not withstanding, but the pervasive gray pervades the day, permeates it, seeping into all seeing, shading everything, dimming the light, there are no clouds, just a mass, a oneness, not fearsome, not daunting, but a oneness just the same, so I wait, and enjoy the anticipation, I have been here before, winter is knocking (upon my door).

Note: and yes, there is some of that white stuff out there right now… that first snow, especially on a saturday night is a welcome sight, it calls back childhood and frolic, of course if this was monday morning I would be cursing the powers that be and the moron in front of me wearing a mask alone in their car, driving 20 mph on the clean highway with their hazards on… but, today is not that day… so I kick back, listen to some sweet ambient, bass kickin’ up underneath, the dog lounging on the bed, which will smell like wet dog tomorrow, but again… let that be tomorrow…