As the cold melancholic rains strip the color from the trees, flinging the golden leaves of the cotton woods into the gutter, the flaming reds of maples across the lawn, I wonder how I will sustain this post series until December 21 when fall ends. I could go on about green for the next month. But I’ll save that for later. What I see now is white, ominous white. Will snow come, or nor? Snow berries ( Symphorocarpos albus) are certainly already here, ghostly, inedible and totally beautiful.