The autumn sky in the north is high and far, like a piece of clear blue jade, huge and clear, only occasionally there are a few strands of cotton that cannot be melted, just floating lazily.
The sun without the cloud cover is also particularly poisonous, and the sun is painful.
However, it is a good time to dry the quilt.
Whenever I have free time, I will turn out the quilts that have been stored at home for more than half a year, put them under the sun, spread them out, and pat them lightly with squinting eyes.
There will be dust floating, dancing against the beam of light, like a fish swimming in the void.
The batt that has been exposed to the sun is stretched and fluffy again, and the whole quilt is like a marshmallow, exuding a good smell.
Someone once said it was the smell of sunshine.
