11/12/25 5:30 44F (6.66C)
It is a gloomy morning, dark and gray and cold.
The maple murmurs, an unseen breeze softly rustling its few remaining leaves.
Barely visible overhead, the fading moon peeks from behind a thick curtain of clouds.
Walter grumbles at noises beyond the fence.
Forgotten, my tea has gone cold.










0 Comments