The breeze, faintly spiced with loam and damp metal. The trees applaud nervously. Blue jays dart past on a secret mission. The dark in the west is deep - A chunk of night, drifting like an iceberg. Thunder begins as if it has much more to say. Leaves chase the squirrels. The wind chimes blunder into each other. A siren wails in urgent mourning. Close behind this Gotterdammerung The sky opens a patch of blue. Like reading a disappointing novel In a single glance.