Early morning

I like this kind of morning - dawn after a stormy day and night. The air is cool and damp. The only sound is the wind rustling through the trees. The tattered clouds are slate gray touched with salmon pink by the soon to be rising sun. There's a sense of peaceful relief at having weathered the storm.

And I get all poetic. But I won't spoil this morning by attempts to put it into verse. I love autumn in New England.