"She hung her gown from the pear tree And watched it swing..."

[greygirlbeast]

Sunny today, wide carnivorous blue, and the humidity finally released us from it's moldy clutches. Only 49% at the moment, and 77˚F. I would say it's autumnal out there, but I don't know from New England seasons, clearly. It's pleasantly warm in my office. The window is open, and my little desktop fan is whirring

Comments

[shanejayell]

I'm rereading Wolves this week, in between other stuff.

[sovay]

Ars Necronomica, the exhibit of HPL-inspired artwork, organized in conjunction with Necronomicon. Some beautiful pieces.

That looks wonderful.

A lovely true autumn to you.

[kiki60]

Hungry skies? When overcast, the clouds seem like protective blankets we children hide under because of our fear of the dark. On clear winter nights, outside the city, we can see the shy for what it is: endless, dark and indifferent.

[kiki60]

No, winter doesn't lie. Winter does many things but lying isn't one of them.

now i must

[whiskeychick]

find the whole secret message and decode as well....

[ulffriend]

Amazing art - thank you for posting, I doubt it will come down here.

But I have to poke your memory just a bit - southern summer storms (at least the type that do the unfortunate sort of damage that you describe) start with heavy humidity and orange-yellow light. We've had five tornadoes touch down within 2 miles of our home in the past few years, so I've gotten familiar.

The pop-up electrical storm that caught me on a trail out at Red Top Mountain, though - if we could send neural postcards I would love to share that with you.