Behind me the setting sun reflected on the glass door of a house named " The Centaur". Glowing in a blaze of orange, pink and gold, the door looked like fire was dancing on it.
Then, as though that was not enough, in the eastern sky, the moon rose over The Monomoy Trap Company building. The stark beauty of it reminded me of an Andrew Wyeth painting.
The first day of fall, blustery, cold and utterly unsensational, gave quite a show as day turned to night.