And just now, a few wet snowflakes slant in from the northeast. No ball game tonight for this fan.
A few days ago we saw our first barn swallows, arriving with the emergence of swallowtails and fritilleries. The air is full of flight. Summer seemed near. But today is a temporary click toward March instead of July. Fine with us. We like slow.
Yesterday evening we sat watching twilight tint the city, and as the game played out in its precise rhythms, we were happy to be there in "America's Most Livable City."
Tonight we'll stay home, maybe walk to the cabin, build a fire in the stove, and read by candlelight, surrounded by the dripping, shining woods.
We are also fans of the cold rain. Us and the poppy.
