Light On The Hill

In the morning light, a thin layer of whiteness sat on car and house roof across the roadway outside of the window.  It might have been snow.  It looked like frost.  It wasn’t everywhere, and it was so thin that the colors of what it was on could be determined in spite of it.  The first thought was, “Is that the color of that thing?” but, as time drifted along the whitish business started disappearing.  Common sense said it was frost or snow. It looked nice and sunny out, and by early afternoon it was hot in the apartment. 

As yours truly opened the window to cool the place down, with a clear view of the white stuff across the way, it was impossible not to wonder exactly how cold it was out. The noontime descent to the outside world showed it was too cold to sit outside, both as seen by experience and because the thermometer said it was near forty degrees out there.  The apartment, however, was warm enough to leave the window open almost until sundown. Having recalled that it was how things were last year, there was no surprise. 

As there was no sitting outside at noontime, it was decided another trip was in order late in the day (it was worth a try, anyway).  It was still cold, but not so cold.  To emphasize the matter of what time it is in the year, come nightfall the big triangular sort of spotty light (town Christmas tree?) high on the far hill was visible between the barely visible houses up there (they may be ranch style houses so low anyway).  It’s supposed to be cold outside.  It’s just hot in the apartment during the day. 

Strange things happen in life.     

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