Anyone who lives in a part of the world where four seasons and trees coexist in harmony knows how it feels to rake the last of the leaves on a cold November day. A mixture of relief and nostalgia. Relief because, if you have lots of deciduous trees to tend to, raking their fallen leaves is a job that goes on and on for weeks. After all, no tree loses all its leaves at once. No, it is a long drawn out affair, one that requires patience and persistence. Somewhat like the journey towards maturity, it is filled with stops and starts, repeated attempts to get it right, thinking you're done one day only to wake up the next and find you have to start all over again. Nostalgia because each of those brittle brown leaves was, not long ago, sending forth rays of color so bright you could hardly bear to look at it. And, of course, raking the last of the leaves means winter is waiting impatiently in the wings. Yes, bare branches against a silver sky may give black & white photographers shivers of delight, but for most of us, winter means the lights have to be turned on between 4 and 5 in the afternoon, and getting ready to go outside can take longer than the trip itself.

So here is a photo of my husband Ed raking the last of the leaves on a cold November day, and next week they're predicting snow. Hello winter; goodbye fall.