~~~

November 18

~~~

I love the pastel colors of a foggy morning.

Our two hickory trees tower over the small red maple.

I knew the fog would soon be lifting when I looked straight up to a blue sky.

I was outside when I heard the clip clop of horse’s hooves.

I wasn’t surprised, because I knew there was another Amish wedding in the neighborhood. There were three weddings in two weeks.

Within fifteen minutes a carriage went the other way. Maybe he dropped someone off at the wedding – or forgot something.