To Stand in the Still Silence of an October Sun

A slight woman in low boots walks the length of a city block

holding the end of a mahogany leather strap; at the other end is a slim sable Shepherd ears alert nose pointed up into the bouquet of an afternoon wind.

They move with no particular speed past rows of shrubbery unkempt, untrimmed that jut out and brush against her denim calf against the mottled fur of the dog's back.

The sidewalk is blanketed in large yellow leaves

spotted gray, in deep crimson jagged edged leaves, in crunchy brown half furled leaves she crackles purposefully underfoot.

Her nylon coat swishes as she moves. This, and the passing of distant cars, together with the crackling leaves underfoot and the chirping warblers and the whistling of a distant train, create a familiar Fall cacophony.

They saunter these two -- a dark-haired woman in a dark puffer coat and a light coated German Shepherd

tripping lightly beside her -- with symbiotic grace.

She stops her august walk

long enough to notice the wind has stopped blowing.

She looks up to a sky blue and gray to a sun just past its apex, and yields to its warmth.

With her coat quieted and her feet planted, the dog turns its attention to the grass unfazed by the silence unmoved by the sanctity of an afternoon benediction