I made the mistake of leaving the heater vent in my room open when I went to sleep today, and I breathed the utterly desiccated air for hours. The sweat I produced because of having too many blankets might have re-humidified the air, had the blankets not soaked it up. Thus, I woke heat-groggy and with arid throat, and, the day being warm, the room remains too hot even now that a cool (though still) evening has arrived. It felt as though summer was making an attempt to return, but night is autumn's ally. Still, even the bright afternoon sunlight shone on great thunderheads that hung over the mountains. Perhaps it has even rained a bit up there, to replenish the sluggish October streams. But now I must put the fan back in the window and attempt to cool the room a bit before Sluggo throws a fit. I will go outside and listen to the sky, in hope of hearing one of two things: the sound of distant thunder, or the flapping wings and the calls of the cranes who return to the valley wetlands this time of year. If I can't feel autumn, I would at least like to hear it.