Dawn Adam Tod Leverton Clouds crowd the dawn sky. The light dims and it darkens. Swallows swerve and cartwheel insensitive to the worsening weather. A few humans trod like plow horses off to their disparate destinations. Spring is a rumour, an afterthought and summer creeps up on us. Rivers flood the plains and two unremarkable volcanoes belch ash up into that sky and it wraps us up like the hug of a dark angel or the shroud on a corpse.