woodyard walk, gray day

Just a muddy walk in the woodyard yesterday with the dog (who kept dashing out of every photo, carrying improbably big pieces of kindling in her mouth), checking out the inventory (not really), getting caught in a drizzle and feeling how November-colored everything was. The browns and grays of leaves and mud with bits of color supplied by berries on branches, a random blue-painted pallet in the towering stack, a row of old oil drums, rust upon rust. Ashes to dust. You can see the boxes of freshly cut wood contrasting with the seasoned boxes slated for delivery in the next few months. Business as usual, but everything's different. I had one stacking job today as dusk fell, looking west across the river as I trundled across the grass, in the distance the orange stripe of setting sun beneath a heavy dark layer of gray.