A softness of sky
along the horizon, the light like a wash of fabric in wind. Sunlight burrows into tree bark. The day not cold enough to freeze a puddle along West Street this morning, though the thermometer says it's about 30 degrees.
Only part of the windshield is frosted up, as if the night forgot its task midway through.
Not much for wind in the flag at the cemetery. Blue sky above, a lumpy sheet of seagulls on a field a mile north of Fairwater.
Just south of Ripon there is still a great green swatch of field off to the left, an amazing greenness this late in November. Summer keeps her socks on, even as winter pushes her off stage.
At this time of year where we live, misplaced green (i.e: anywhere but on evergreen trees) almost seems like a reproach--dare to think of warmer times, will you?
We need the snow now, although we'd never admit it. But the less snow, the deeper the frost goes--not good news.
Posted by: poor_mad_peter | November 25, 2007 at 07:15 AM