Mild

[rejectomorph]

A few katydids survived last night's inclement (delightfully inclement) weather. I hear them now, chirping away, blissfully unaware of their impending doom. I suppose they're a lot like us, after all. I doubt that their song will continue late tonight, as the temperature is dropping rapidly. The day was mild, filled with pleasing cloudscapes that invited me to enjoy the oblivion which gazing at them induced. I shared the afternoon with squirrels, who have been energized by the crispness of the air. They scampered about, explored the trees, and chattered to one another while the sun shone. Now they and the birds have retired for the night, the sky has been cleared of clouds, the first stars are emerging, and only the katydids and the passing cars of a few late commuters disturb the peace of evening.

Nature has been kind today, but people and things have been screwing up. The paper didn't come this morning, and I was unable to find the number to call to get a replacement. The plumbing is behaving badly, and I fear that the pipes might need to be snaked. My Internet service has been reluctant to give me a connection, and it took me almost ten minutes just to fetch the e-mail. The cable was out for a while, too, and is now providing considerable fuzz and frequent static. Is it any wonder I prefer weather to unreliable devices?