Depending on wind and the density of morning air,
ratio of hydrogen to oxygen suspended in light
traveling the length of eight minutes from the sun,
spore after feathered milkweed spore sails east or west
or east-west across the yard. Particles of matter
making up the scent of cows in the barn mixed with hay
and the accumulating leaves of autumn await explanation.
We are still a hundred years behind the meteorologists,
and no one knows the effect of dew on vertical axis plots
of electrons buffeted by storms of solar winds or the true line
separating umbra, penumbra. A purple finch appears,
then another. Our divination tells us the sun is restless.
Garage doors open and close of their own volition.
Some people believe conceiving a child under a good aurora
increases the chance of having gifted offspring,
others that what we see in the sky are reflections,
or the glinting scales of herring off of Yellowknife
or Greenbelt or Hekla or South Slave.