Seeing the season change

I don't mean the leaves. Around here, they are just as likely to turn red/yellow/orange and hang around for a month as they are to be green one evening and on the ground the next morning. In fact, that's what I think will happen to our gingko tree this year. Last fall, it was a literal traffic-stopping gold/yellow. This year--check the calendar, yes, almost November--there's nary a yellow leaf in sight. I'll go out to get the paper one morning soon and the tree will have simply shook off its covering overnight. A pity.

But I'm more likely to see a literal seasonal change in the laundry basket. In the summer, there's a load of towels and a load of light colored clothes, and always a small load of dark. Gradually, the balance shifts, like a pair of scales. A week ago, the light and dark were about equal. Today, the dark is winning. Our bare hall tree has two jackets on it so far. Soon, it'll be covered up because we're not very good about putting our jackets and coats back in the closet when we're going to need them again on our next outdoor venture.

And to top it off, the house has shifted. She rides the dark loam around here like a schooner on the high seas and she's shifted into winter mode. Doors which closed a month ago, now refuse. The shower leaks through its once-tight door.

The SS Sisk, riding high once again.