The afternoon sky was luminous gray, the way it gets when a storm is gathering. This evening there is a freshening breeze, and the mulberry branches are scraping the rain gutter, making it groan. There are now sufficient fallen leaves to make a pleasant skittering sound when sudden gusts drive them across the pavement. To the east, the clouds are not yet fully formed, and a halo surrounds the moon where it glows amid bright haze. That persistent cricket still chirps, undeterred by the air's growing chill. Altogether, it is a perfect October evening. Later, there might be a display of moonlight on clouds. I'd enjoy that.
Also, I have this on good authority: Les poulets n'ont pas de chaises. Though I'm not sure why, I felt that this might be important enough that it ought to be passed on.
