It was just cool enough to sit on the porch awhile the morning I took September’s photo, and Quijote seemed to want a little extra sun.
The sky was mottled with little white clouds, like the edges of the approaching cloud bank had crumbled off ahead of it.
They reminded me of the bits of cream cheese you get when it’s too cold to spread properly. Or the pattern of paint after a timid first pass on a textured wall.
Later, the wind and air pressure and afternoon heat would work together to spread the storm clouds across the sky and cover it completely.
