Already, a pale light is entering the sky and the stars have dimmed. In a few minutes, the cacophony of crows will begin. I will be glad when the clocks are changed, buying me (for a while) another hour of darkness in the mornings. I prefer the light to linger in the evening, not push its way into what ought to still be my night.
Over there, another of my new icons, this one a photograph of a landscape in the Sutter Buttes. Though they are but fifty or so miles distant, I have never been there. I'd like to go.