Temperatures rose, and we lightened our layers for walking. I still had one layer too many. Normally I would have hung my sweater on Connie’s and Marla’s post, but the 5% chance of rain was hitting my face. Hanging was not the driest option. I hoped my neighbors wouldn’t put outgoing mail in their box, as I pushed the sweater inside and told it to behave itself.
When we came back, we saw Marla and Albert disappearing into their house. The sweater was retrieved, and a quiet adventure in the mountains came to its end.