The day turned pink as the autumn colors gleamed in approaching sunrise. A fat bee slept on the screen, waiting to breakfast, I imagine, on the late season pollen.  Marigolds and nasturtium still pop up, along with petunias.  I went to a circus on Sunday, and this is what I saw:

No safety nets.  Sheer drops that could end in disaster in a play premise that disaster has already happened.  Traces depicted seven performers who took enormous risk as the audience watched with either breaths held, afraid to stir the air to cause a slip, or shrieking in response to the tension.  The shrieker sat somewhere behind me.

Here is another situation, but as a viewer, there is less immediacy of danger:

A woodpecker drills into a tree.  The day will tease with warmth, and later, the temperature in the week will plunge back down.  I sit still here, except for my typing fingers, as the sound of breezes and trucks begin.