9/02/24

I am late starting breakfast. Our dog radiates impatience. She is increasingly a creature of habit. She was once all black around her eyes. Now she’s all gray. She relies on her routines. I do too, but only so I can release them and be prepared for surprises when they arise.

Outside, the vibrant pink of the coneflower blooms are crisping to black. The walnut trees are dropping their leaves. I will spend the next several months fighting a battle of attrition, trying to keep the litter from overtaking the back porch.