The sky is slate. no, That is not right. Slate is darker. It is pewter but again the color is not right. Pewter has a slight glow to its surface and there is no glow to this sky. It is simply  grey  dim dull grey . That sky along with cold winds are accurate predictors of coming winter weather. Now it is raining which will be ice and/or snow. No need for the scientific weather forecasts when this type of weather sign is so evident.  All they can say is how long and how much but the sky and the wind they tell us  the major changes.

All day I have been thinking of the song A Cold Winter's Night by Sting. It is mid-evil in its tone, and while I can not find it, my mind repeats its tone and the mood of quiet survival it speaks of. Winter is a season ,at least for me, of reflection of days spent inside doing solitary tasks. It is a time of the year I hate due to ice and snow, but one I love for its beauty and the solitude offers.Fall will always be my favorite, but this time of year( the starving moon of the Lakota) is dear to me also.

The dogs are aware of a coming change. Put outside for potty time, there is little playtime as they run out and soon are at the door to come into the warmth. They find warm spots; an old fleece robe or a heat vent will do for them to flop on and to sleep. It is 3:30 now ,but as dark as it usually is at 4:30 or 5.  They are ready to hunker down for the night. Winston paces to the bedroom door and back. Zoe  goes to her kennel and lays alone. Boba finds a spot and waits for me to kennel him. It is too early, but the darkness of the day has them befuddled.

They are content in the warmth of the house and, I think ,in my presence. I ,too, am content the quiet of a grey day and the simple tasks and the lack of rush it grants me.