Nature totters between summer and winter. The weather between rain and snow. The light between flat and awesome.
The parting of the clouds is like that of zipper between heaven and earth briefly rent. Actinic light rushes through the slit, paints the old fence row with a wide brush dipped in autumnal luminance.
A heron makes a pass of the scene, stretches its wings across the variegated branches, its form a white dash against the brooding sky. Heads up, eyes straight ahead. Gasp. Awesome!
The zipper closes. The light fades. Stillness. Darkness. The heron is gone, the autumn fading. Did they ever exist?
The rain begins to fall. It almost looks like snow.