The Color of the Day

A loud bang this morning reminded me of what day it was. Actually Captain Crab beat my faulty memory to the punch. It is in some circles the most revered of days. In other circles (mine) it is the most dreaded. Today is the opening of pheasant season.














I took a pan of lasagna to my folks. I couldn't go a mile without seeing several trucks parked at the side of the road or out in the fields. The men were decked out in orange, hunting in packs, like wolves. Wolves with cell phones and GPS. People I met on the road were dressed in orange. A guy in a minivan (not the type of vehicle associated with such manly activity) was dressed in orange. I saw a dog wearing an orange vest, too, but didn't get his picture.










Over the river and through the woods to mother's house I went. I arrived without being mistaken for a pheasant.











My dad had bypass surgery last week. He's doing well, I guess. He is pretty content to be home and NOT have visitors so I didn't stay long.

Not everyone is hunting today. Some farmers are still in the fields combining corn. And then there are the people who have to deal with all that corn once it's out of the field. So add yellow to the color of the day.































At night when it's not cloudy, the harvest moon has been showing its orange face, now pale in the daylight.