Snow. No kidding. Spiralling and spinning down the street, down the back alley, out of a grey, gloomy sky.

Granted, it isn’t sticking. The ground is too wet and warm for that, after yesterday’s rain, after a shift into autumn that has been so mild as to be (almost, but not quite) unnoticeable.

I mean, the leaves are still on the trees, eh! The leaves on the magnolia in our front yard are not just stuck on, still – they’re still green, only just beginning to turn yellow!

I guess it’s the aftermath, the residue, the spooky after-chill, of Halloween – a trick played by one of those kids who came tripping down the street, excitedly, in the rain last night, calling out to one another, and to us: ‘trick or treat!’ The little skunks in skunk costumes, with stuffed tails; the white snowy owls; the tv characters, the Wizard of Oz Tin Man, the cowgirls, and of course the skeletons – the growling, scary skeletons, turning on the stair to scare us once again, and squealing with delight as we threw up our hands in horror.

Snow. I ask you.