Apparently today it is all about waiting.
And letting things play out.
I woke to a lower temperature, but still not below coverline. And no other anything. Nothing clearer than a sinking temperature trend.
I also woke to fog, a thick fog that closed in and opened, closed and opened, offering brief glimpses of woods, stone walls, the craggy back side of the mountain, a corncrib that wears one boot. My drive in to work took me by horses with thick winter coats, sheep eating piles of what looked like cabbage leaves... and one big beachball sitting in the woods by the stream. The beachball was not there yesterday.
It rained soft rain all night, and today is warm enough to make me wish for a hike I cannot take until tomorrow. This is an exercise in patience. I know that. I know that. I know that.