This is the in-between time, that space between wet and dry, cool and colder.
The Twilight Zone.
The air here is always good. Some times better than other times, but always good. That is subjective, of course. If you enjoy sweating and living in sandals, shirtless and shorts year-round, you would not consider it good.
You would consider it cold or cool or nippy, unsuitable for beer.
But I do not care about sandals or shorts or going shirtless, and I don’t drink beer, not anymore, so this is a perfect world.
Today, right now, this week, we are on the cusp, the edge between wet and dry. From June to right about now, usually earlier actually, we get rain every day, and this upstairs patio is mostly useless. There are always puddles or lakes in it.
You can make it to the hammock, but venturing farther, especially that corner which offers the best view into the rooms of the sex hotel, is mostly out of the question.
The constant puddles make it nearly impossible to sweep, so the floor accumulates grime. I snapped this photo today just after sweeping the entire terraza, which was doable due to scant rain recently. The rain is about gone.
I removed the light dirt, but the more serious grime will be attacked in the next few days with a hose run up from downstairs, an industrial broom and then the mop.
Then it will be sparkling. November is the best month here.
Perhaps I will swing in the hammock. It’s just out of view to the left. The air will be neither warm nor cold. It will be just right like the baby bear’s porridge. The sky will be a beautiful blue where birds, big and small, will fly high and low, hunting and singing.
There are two Twilight Zones here on the mountaintop. This one between summer and fall and the other one between spring and summer. That latter can get a bit stuffy on occasion, depending on where you’re sitting.
This one, however, is perfect.
* * * *
(Yes, the Moon has changed her attire. Girls do that.)