In my pajamas to fetch the paper from the driveway, the pre-dawn sky above is a flawless pale bowl, not a cloud nor jet trail to ripple the glow of its clean grey surface. No dew nor fog. Only a waning moon in the southwest, fading as daylight increases. A gusty breeze rattles the dry leaves of the oaks, the dry grass crunches beneath my feet. The bird bath was overturned in the night. No drop of water anywhere.