I stepped outside yesterday and saw no sign of the forecasted frost in our yard. The dogs and I walked through the debris of fall, like the yellowing leaves and spent goldenrods. A creeping cold infused the calm air, forcing me to keep switching the hand holding the leashes with the hand in my pocket.

Out at the edge of the woods, the scene changed. Dandelion leaves were outlined in white and tufts of grass glittered. A distant lawn seemed dusted by an early snowfall. Lone trees and buildings cast dark, frost-free shadows in the lawns carved out of our forest. Across the fields, a line of sunlight drained down a row of trees as the sun slowly crested a hill, bringing the warmth that would eventually melt the frost away.