Gray Again

[rejectomorph]

The sunlight of the last few days was replaced this afternoon by a more characteristic winter gray. A few sprinkles spread dark dots across the pavements, but full rain failed to arrive. I was cheered by the soft light and the prospect that rain might fall later tonight. It was also nice to hear how active the birds were today. There was much chirping in the cool air. In fact, I was awakened by the sound of acorn woodpeckers. It struck me that their vocalizations are much like those of frogs, but intermittent rather than sustained, as the birds do not gather in numbers as great as do frogs. In any case, they are a far more pleasant way to wake than the harsh sound of an alarm clock.

The light has now faded from the sky, and the moon being yet to rise and the stars concealed by the clouds, it is all dense, damp darkness except where lights shine from the houses. No wind stirs, and the rain holds back, creating a sense of expectancy. I await the first whispers of the pines in freshening breeze which will foretell the arrival of the storm. It may not come. Instead, the clouds may merely settle on the land as fog. Even better. The valley gets most of the fog, and I'd enjoy having it visit the mountains for a change. I enjoy the smell of it, and I like to hear the condensation dripping from the trees.