The evening after Thanksgiving. All is quiet in the neighborhood. The evening sky a pinkish blue with fluffy clouds. Warm air slips northward along the coast as it is pushed by a cold front to the west. For the moment the air is almost still. No birds, no rustling leaves, hardly a breeze. Just a moment to appreciate the half moon, the fullness of nature, and the temporary existence of our lives.
The warm night before an inexorable cold reminds us that our condition is fragile. Time passes. Seasons come and go. Our lives intertwine with others temporarily and we are gone like a flash.