>This morning as I drove across the river back into Rhea County, I happened to look up.
The bridge that spanned the river inclined just enough to elevate me over the horizon’s landscape. Driving east I saw the mountain line, which guards Dayton, and the valley below–still frozen from the night. Hanging overhead of the valley and the mountain was a winter sky, a cosmic drawing.
Running southeast to northwest, clouds striped a perfectly blue sky. At near-perfect intervals, the stripes marked the sky like a football field of blue. The stratocumulus formations seemed pregnant with snow–gray, robust bellies curved around and up, whitening as the clouds grew taller. They were heavy. The wind emptied the sky in-between–clear allies for the sun to shine through.
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>Publious, you are such a good writer…
>Well thank you, sir. I happen to think you’re pretty good at what you do as well.It’s funny; after I wrote this I wasn’t really happy with how it turned out . . .
>Typical of good writers . . . never satisfied, no matter how good everyone else assures you it is! 🙂
>You know, you’ve used the words “good” and “writer” consecutively a few times when talking about me before, but each time I’m still taken aback a bit, given who it is that’s giving the praise.Thanks. 🙂