Drizzle. Wet walk, nose turned down to the pavement, hand protecting good camera. Except during this one shot. For the rose that’s hanging in there... until what, Thanksgiving? Winter break?
For me, until the weekend. And a much much needed break from work. Any work. Hang in there, readers. On Saturday and Sunday, I will not write about work.
Evening drizzle. Step off the crowded bus, look up.
Trees, with nothing left hanging. Wet bark, dark skies, a very wet walk to the shop, and then finally -- home.
