The sun has returned and cavorts playfully with a few remaining sullen clouds stripped of all earthbound moisture. Like jagged cloth scraps, a patchwork of light and shadow tumble upon and unevenly blanket the distant hills. I see darkly through obscuring pine and oak, those broad-trunked, ever-needled and still-somewhat-in-leaf arborescent forms. An august autumn is bowing out, but her flora remains static for so late in the season. Moving to the right a bit and on my haunches, I peer through yet too much foliage in order to capture these fleeting but eternal moments of majestic beauty of sky and land.
That I were Icarus, but this time joyful and without care.
Today is a cool and friendly Sol ...
