Just before the sun peaked over the mountains to the East the red bike leaned against a blue bale of hay and Jack climbed the round metal stairway to the top of the barn carrying only a small plastic thermos of cold water. The tools of his current trade were where he had left them. Hawks and buzzards have little need for caulking guns and wire brushes. Jack took great care to walk on beams covered with tin and approached each tiny hole as a task that required his full attention. The sun rose in the almost white blue sky without a wisp of a cloud overhead. Thirty miles away next to the mountain range a few thunderclouds tried to form without much success, but on top of the barn the air remained dry as the heat of the day increased. The reflective nature of the tin bounced the heat back allowing Jack to toast evenly. Every so often Toby would shout from the ground, checking to make sure everything was going as planned, Jack would awake from his daydream of whatever passing whim he was devoting most of his thought to and holler back a report on his condition. When Toby hollered lunch most of Jack’s workday was already complete and only a small section of roof still needed his attention. Jack started to ask for another half an hour to finish but remembered (from the year before) the job would not be complete without the dark barn test and hurried down the ladder to a lunch he knew would include fresh red bread which would restore his energy as nothing else could.