rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Quenched

All afternoon, the clouds drifted through the grey day. At times, the lower levels would part briefly to reveal, rising into a small patch of blue, the white, rusticated wall of some great cumulus castle, like a vision of Avalon, quickly veiled again in the swirling grey of the common world. But the common world had beauty enough today. The street is still carpeted with the golden brown of wet pine needles, and the tall oaks are draped in yellow gold leaves shot with shards of the remaining green. One patch of street is patterned with streams of red from fallen dogwood leaves. At the end of the block, the apple trees are now beginning to turn color, so that the orchard stands out more clearly from the row of green pines beyond it. There was very little rain today, but the clouds prevented the moisture which saturates the forest from evaporating. They also held in the waning storm's warmth, so the air was pleasant. The cold front will most likely pass through tonight, and tomorrow will be bright and chilly. The rain may have come a bit late, this year, but such a storm was worth waiting for, and quite made up for lost time, dropping several inches in three days. It may be a harbinger of a wet winter. That would mean fewer walks for the next few months, but perhaps a truly florid spring.
Subscribe

  • Reset Forty-Four, Day Twenty-Two

    Monday I got something close to as much sleep as I needed, and still had a few hours of daylight after I woke up. There were disturbing dream…

  • Reset Forty-Four, Day Twenty-One

    I had a browser crash with difficult recovery this morning, leading to much delay. Sunday brought much delay, too. I woke up too early again, and…

  • Reset Forty-Four, Day Twenty

    Though (or because) I got to sleep earlier Saturday morning than I have for quite some time I did not sleep well. It went okay for about five hours,…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 0 comments