Winter lies close. Maybe just around the corner, a sleeping dog waiting to be disturbed.
Last night, with the clouds lit over the Lizard Range, I walked along the river. There were no ducks. No Geese. The water, low, placid, drifted by reflecting the clouds and the end of the day.
The snow started later, around three am. The falling snow dispersed the streetlights, giving the night the look of a false dawn. In reality, the light foretold a winter to come. Slowly, it covered the grass, the bushes and the parked cars. The streets, with their retained heat, remained free, hissing with the infrequent car.
Winter is close.