“The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson).

Emerson’s words were on my mind this afternoon in Platt, when, as the land below slowly dried out after the recent heavy rain, the skies were ablaze with magnificent cloudforms, golden hues, and flocks of birds. In fact, birdsong was abundant almost everywhere, loud, melodic, and heartwarming after the recent gloom. How long before the next soaking? Who knows. Hopefully not for another day or so.

This is Platt on 28 January 2026.