Where’s a dog to look first? I took Clementine out on the rare Morning Walk just because I wanted to get some shots of some of that amazing early light through the leaves. Plus with Clem’s blue-tick fur, I thought she’d be an interesting contrast against the leaves.

Well, mission accomplished and all that, but Clementine just doesn’t know what to do when the routine changes. (Dogs are kind of fun that way. I always thought that if I beat the dog with a stick every day at 3:15, she would only be upset the day I did it at 3:30.) When I got the leash for the walk, she just looked at me for a minute as if I’d put on a hat with an eggbeater on it. She’s a good dog, but occasionally she just gets fed up with our dumbness. We go on a walk in the afternoon. We have always gone for a walk in the afternoon. This is madness.

But of course, it didn’t take her long to get into the spirit of it. Judging from the amount of torque she puts on the leash, I gather that the entire world smells interesting right now.

It’s all right, Clem. The leaves are falling fast. I won’t be messing with your head much longer.