|
Drought And so begins another autumn day. Sunlight filters through bare trees. Fallen and frosted leaves crackle beneath boots. Still air stings cheeks and is felt in the lungs. From the house chimney, a thin column of smoke lifts into cloudless nitrogen blue. Ah, if this was not the beginning of another perfect autumn day and instead a day of clouds and mists and rain – seeping, soaking, relentless rain. How much more perfect would that be? The land and lakes wish for it. The creeks and streams weep for it. And yet it begins another perfect autumn day.
|
