Spacious Skies

I seem to be on an "America, the Beautiful" kick, even though my version has "amber waves of weeds" and my "fruited plain" is one small orchard.  After a misty damp morning yesterday, the skies cleared and it was a perfectly gorgeous afternoon.

The prognosticators are saying the temperatures will soar to one hundred by the weekend and that caused me to set some priorities.  With guests arriving tomorrow, there is a lot to be done.  Deciding that dusting could be done even in the heat, mowing the fast-growing west field seemed the better option as I didn't want to get caught with the place looking raggedy again.  Tootling around and around in the late afternoon was so pleasant.  The sun was dropping and I felt I might be in a race to finish before it went down.  Mowing is not a job one can rush.  Nearing the end, I had no more had the thought, "I love my little tractor.  It's such a good workhorse," than the engine died.  Again.  It was like a recurring nightmare.  Spurring it on, I got the darned thing (it's a love-hate relationship) back to the shed and left it to suffer its death throes on its own.  I'm doomed to have a shaggy yard, regardless.

Having watched every weather newscast, what I did not anticipate was waking today to the wettest morning yet, not just drizzle but real rain.  The grey clouds are so low they cover the hilltops across the way.  The spacious blue skies of yesterday are but a memory.