5:45 AM

Seventy degrees — freakishly warm even by our standards — and humid (the wire again buzzing), low clouds racing overhead (like apocalyptic horseman should come galloping by any time), the willow periodically whipped sideways by sudden fearsome gusts; a weird and wonderful morning, but a harbinger of changes to come.¹

1 A little later, it started pouring and the temperature dropped about twenty degrees.