This afternoons’ autumn sky was quite dramatic, with clouds dropping rain that largely though not completely evaporated before reaching the ground.

Sunrise, on a late summer day by the calendar. Sunrise, on an early autumn day by how it feels.
. . . will soon become winter’s blue and white.
And that’s fine. I am not sad about winters’ approach . . . I have no control over the weather or climate. It’s better, healthier, to accept what will be.
Nearby trees appear to arch almost directly overhead.
Black-eyed Susans hang on into late October.
Back on Thursday.
A combine cuts the first swathe through a soybean field. The last swathe may be done before I see the field tomorrow morning.
Back on Thursday.
It’s absurd, sitting barefooted outside on November 18 with the temperature being 20C. We spent quality time on the deck.
Reality will hit tomorrow like a wave crashing onto the beach.