On our walk this morning, Jack and I are greeted by lawns and roofs white with the heavy frost that kills tender hosta leaves and blackens even the hardy chrysanthemum.
As Jack plows through what was just days ago a cushioned bank of day lilies, sharp fronds poke at his belly, and he tilts his head as if to consider the crunch underfoot. My shoulders ache from pulling him away from intriguing scents in the leaves piled high by the curb.
In the distance, I see the highrise condos through the leafless trees of Cherokee Park. A walk through the park would be lovely. But sunrise comes, my to-do list beckons, and Jack needs to get home for his morning nap.Click on any image to launch slideshow: