I can never resist a stunning sky view. These were taken earlier this week; the first one was taken from the ridge looking down to the left fork of Joe's Run at sunset. The second was taken two mornings later on the way to work.
The red morning sun portent was correct; by evening it was showery and changing weather was on the way.
Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets, and here is one of my best-loved poems by him:
Looking For a Sunset Bird in Winter
The west was getting out of gold,
The breath of air had died of cold,
When shoeing home across the white,
I thought I saw a bird alight.
In summer when I passed the place
I had to stop and lift my face;
A bird with an angelic gift
Was singing in it sweet and swift.
No bird was singing in it now.
A single leaf was on a bough,
And that was all there was to see
In going twice around the tree.
From my advantage on a hill
I judged that such a crystal chill
Was only adding frost to snow
As gilt to gold that wouldn't show.
A brush had left a crooked stroke
Of what was either cloud or smoke
From north to south across the blue;
A piercing little star was through.