Eventually the rumble thundered, and there were even some pretty impressive lightening cracks across the sky. That's when I knew it was time to get ungrounded and head for home. But before the storm, almost as I arrived at this farmstead, three magnificent, floating islands of vapor sailed by. I'd seen them at a distance and followed them to this farm. I rushed from the car and set up in time to catch the barns in strangely beatific attitude. If this is the blessing of the harvest, someone has chosen the wrong operation - If not abandoned, this farm is at least dormant. Nor did this beatification have an effect on the state of bliss up the road in Wassaic.
In truth, I haven't the least notion what this picture is about, but when I see clouds like this I look for anything handy to shoot against them.
