holding on

I've always thought it was the leaves holding onto the tree until the last possible minute- but today I changed my perception.
It seemed the rooted tree was desperately coveting the colourful transitory leaves, trying to avoid as long as possible the moment when it has to let go of the last of its seasonal companions and join all others for a winter of empty dark lonely branches.
Defiance or denial?

Sent home from work today at lunch, after phonecalls, shovelling, fresh brownies, tortillas, blethers, tea and toast. What a workforce/place.
Made first ever syrup steam pudding this evening. Not to be the last.