We don't often get blue skies in my neck of the woods, Plantation, West Virginia. Oh, there are a few in the spring, but autumn is when West Virginia's in her glory. The deciduous trees show off their fancy new clothes, brilliant golds and reds against the perpetual green of the evergreens. The rest of the year -- again, where I live -- the sky is a dismal white. There's a song that captures this phenomenon called "You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive."
Where the sun comes up about ten in the mornin'
And the sun goes down about three in the day
That's what it's like, living in a hollow (or "holler" as many say). But today we have a chilly blue sky decorated with wispy white clouds -- more clouds than blue sky, but I'm not picky. Soon enough the skies will be bleak and grey or white and the trees barren of leaves. And the sun won't even come up; it'll be hidden behind the clouds those precious five hours a day.