There’s not a trace of snow left in town, but out in the country we saw highlights of white persisting in pockets here and there in the fields. In the forest, the fallen branches and trees were frosted like cupcakes and the leaves on the ground were wet and nearly silent as we padded along. All but a very few leaves are down now and the trees stand like scratchy wire sculptures against a foreboding gray and gloomy sky. Late autumn has arrived and with it has also come the November blahs and blues. Even Jack seemed tinged with ennui today.