The fall's first ice slickened the front steps this morning, but, even in the darkness, I was prepared as the meathead bolted down them.

Well prepared. A couple nights ago I stopped by Lowe's and picked up a couple bags of sand to set on the front porch.

Yes, I am enough of a pompous ass about natural things that I don't use ice melt, but instead sprinkle sand.

The world doesn't need more chemical solutions. So to speak.

The changes comes, no doubt.

Last night the second boy and I drove home in a weird mix of rain changing or mixing with something vaguely frozen. At least it splattered against the wind shield and looked heavy and slushy in the headlights.

I didn't stay up late enough to check if it actually changed to or mixed with snow later.

For the first time since the spring, it felt winterish.

Walking north toward the town pond, I realized a hoodie might have been a good idea. Even with gloves, three layers and a wool hat, the wind bit through.

Wild things sense the coming, too.

Overnight, dozens of Canada geese, maybe more than 100, arrived and sat on the town pond.

Well, restlessly sat, flew off in flocks of a dozen or so, then sat again, mostly tucked up on the north shore out of the wind.

Change comes.

I would have been sitting in my blind this morning, except we had parent-teacher conferences early for the kids.

Some things trump even tramping around outside.