There was a whisper of winter in the air—a whisper that presaged change.
A whisper that grew louder with each passing hour, day and week, as the long October nights dissolved into November and stretched ever longer and darker. Each dawn the sun pushed harder and was slower on its upward climb toward first light above the eastern peaks.
Winter’s whisper brought its cooling breath, which promised desert frost would not be far behind.
Bureau drawers that held long-sleeved, knitted sweaters were drawn open and the sweaters unfolded and pulled over, or buttoned onto, first the younger, and then the older members of the family, and then the mothers and fathers.
The extra blanket saw service and so did the fireplace. Lemonade and sarsaparilla were replaced with hot coffee and tea.
But the changes in and around Prescott and the Arizona Territory were not just in weather and wardrobe. The climate change occurred every year. But there were new and different changes this year.