A cold and windy dawn. The crescent moon drowns in a sorcery of pink.
Slightly warmer. Alarmed chipmunks go in and out of sync. The slow hegemony of clouds.
Sunrise has been delayed by clouds, but I hold out hope. A wren tuts impatiently. A train horn blows a flat minor chord.
Dawn. I watch the stars fade then brighten again, as a thin veil of cloud I hadn’t noticed moves off like a lizard’s third eyelid.
Overcast, windy and cold at dawn. Soft thuds as the black walnut tree releases its ordnance onto the road.
Windy and cold (40F/5C). A sudden outpouring of Canada goose music. The sun comes out from behind the only cloud.
Dawn. The last katydid falls silent. The fourth-quarter moon, curled up like a dried fish, disappears into a cloud.
Cold (46F) with thin, high clouds. Black walnuts knocking on the roof. A red-tailed hawk drops in to visit the squirrels.
A high cloud ceiling full of holes. In the meadow, one snakeroot flower nods: hummingbird.
Harvest moon setting behind the western ridge, followed by a faint moon dog in the wash of cirrus.
A break in the showers: it’s overcast but bright. A slug glides slowly up the porch railing with its 27,000 teeth.
As above, so below: white sky, white snakeroot. A hummingbird buzzes in to bother the jewelweed below the porch.
Cool and clear except for wisps of shredded contrails. Sound is out of the east: rumble of a train, the quarry’s grind.
Out before sunrise to watch a thunderstorm that never appears. The clouds half-clear. Squirrels go about their business.