isobelmtl

Writing under a Montreal sky

Early in the day

The sky was ominous with low clouds that sprinkled the almost empty parking lot of the shopping centre. By the time I had picked up a few things for the grandkids who would be coming over, a strong wind had blown away the clouds and the rest of the day was beautiful.

The sky seemed unreal

I wondered if this would be the last day that people would go out in shorts, sandals, short sleeved t-shirts.

Where golden leaves hung

a few days before, now bare branches threw their shadows onto the walkway.

Would the old man

still come to feed the ducks when the temperature dipped as it was forecast to do?

The day demanded

the homage that must be paid to the beautiful.

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