HERE COMES THE ... SUN?

I'm sitting here on my couch, computer on my lap, looking out at the strange phenomenon called a blue sky. Along the roof top across the street, there are dark silhouettes of birds and trees, of chimneys and antennas. I think they're called shadows, but it seems like it has been so long since I've seen the sun, I can be sure.

Sure, I'm exaggerating, but the dark clouds and dreary drizzle of the past couple of days had really had me dragging.

The cat, seeing the sun, has been calling out and insisting that I open the window. His his mind sun equals warm and warm equals open window to sit in. Logical? Not to me, but I opened the window anyway.

Autumn is working its way to winter. The tree outside my window has nary a left left on it. The bright yellows, oranges, and reds that fell from my maple trees have now turned to crunchy brown curls. This morning a heavy frost decorated each leaf and blade of grass and crunched as I crossed the yard to get the dog's attention. His curious nose has given him selective hearing loss again.