The light glowed a peachy pink in that early misty morning two days after the midterms. Rain was finally a’comin’ our way after four weeks of severe parchedness. By evening, it would begin thrre days of much needed relief, but for now, the sky shone with only that positive anticipation that lined the well-traveled stanza: “Red sky at morning, sailor take warning.” By all measures, yes, rain was on its way.
Plummeting acorns striking rock rudely ruffled the silence, registering their late-season thwackings and exciting one seasoned pig standing statue-still until their clarion call.