Wife Rule #118: Just Had to Share

As you recall,
I didn't sleep well last night
because of the rain blowing in.
It's the first storm of autumn,
bringing a sudden, delicious drop in temperature
and promising a scintillating smorgasbord for the senses,
just around the corner:
eye-popping color-candy in the boughs of the trees,
the pleasant crunch of leaves underfoot,
the earthy smell of decay in the air,
and the harvest of all the year's promise,
culminating in a cornucopia of holiday tradition.

What's not to love?

As I rounded a bend
in the rain-slick road on my way into work,
the curtain of moody, slate sky parted momentarily,
revealing twelve-thousand-foot Timponogos
adorned like a bride,
with virgin snow atop
and delicate patterns of frost
extending to where the foothills were shrouded
beneath a soft bank of low-lying mist.
Underneath this veil
the mountain still blushed with the crab-apple hues
of a fleeting autumn that will fade much faster
than it will here, in the valley.

After only a moment the curtain closed,
dousing the brief, fiery spotlight
that shone with such vigor on the scene
and dissolving the view once again
into a uniform pattern of wet road and milky sky.

It may all be gone tomorrow,
and I didn't have a camera.
But still, I just had to share.
So, my Love, there you go.