As I look out my window this morning to the ball field across the way, water stand in the infield like a rice patty. Then emptiness of a rainy fall morning and the approaching end of baseball for the year are like a deep blue blanket that has been drooped overhead. It reminds me of how, when I was young and had a parakeet, we'd drape his cage at night.
These are the days when the soul yearns for light and life. It is too early for the colors of fall that provide some solace from this dreariness and so it is a between time and it feel like we are stuck there.