No KiteToday began with a grimace, a grey dour tinge and the threat of mist in the air. I walked in anyway; one of the useful things about habitual exercise is that it becomes somewhat addictive, or at the very least a welcome comfort. I will likely soon need to break out the stout coats, but this morning all that was required was an umbrella and some ability to shrug off the damp.
After the front fell through, we were treated to a taste of autumn, sorely welcome after the swamps of recent days. The sky became blue tufted with clouds. The air became crisp, teasingly scented with leaves and the smoke of fruitwoods. Grilled cheese sandwiches are called for next to mugs of tomato soup; there is a promise of cider in the evenings, bubbling on the stove with steeping spices. It is good weather for walking, good weather for sleeping, good weather for standing on a hill, windswept.
Sleep well tonight.
All content under copyright by the author. Dancing is permitted. The strange deltic glyphs in the sand under tidal flow are a pleasure to watch in their deepening. Offer not valid in Kansas. We put it down and then we lost it. It all happens in the corner of the eye. Commentary accepted at pen@goob.com, although the traps are agressive and the pointy bits simply drip with dark liquour. We have a dog, but we do not own it. Thank you.