Saturday, October 20, 2007
It was that time between rainstorms, when we had driven out of one and were not yet into the next, where you can see the small clear space of clouds in the sky, with the one behind you dropping out its bottom, and the one ahead waiting to do so. The air is washed clean, and the 5 PM light at a slant enhances every shade of every color. We drove by, picking out every autumnal red or orange or gold or black, Soren explaining that this was the best time of year because it brings us so many surprises. And at that moment, the red ivy climbing up the white wall, as if the season had painted in rough oils on the cement, it could have been true.
