As a storm moves in I wait for the last day of fall. Snow is not far away, and after this day I saw some light flurries. They melted as fast as they fell, but more is near. All the snowboarders around me are praising storms out west and hoping to see it fall thickly. I think I can wait, but always get excited when it coats the prairie around me. Lily will miss digging in the sand, but does the same with snow.
A bit of Impressionism, perhaps Monet.