After a morning and early afternoon of reading and writing in bed, cup of coffee at my side, I finally emerged at midday to wash dishes and begin to make plans for the evening. Just when I thought I knew what I was going to be up to, my excellent friend showed up at the back door and invited me on a long walk. And so I went, and gathered more things, more shadows and shapes and shafts of light. My favorites all came from this one plant, early in the walk:
We were bedeviled by small children on smaller bikes; we gave the dog water from a squeezy sport bottle; we stopped for long breaks on the trestle bridge over the autumn-shallow river. We returned to Gambier in the near-dark. The dog collapsed on the floor. The night grew darker and cooler around the warm house where we all sat, together, catching the little breather our break has brought us.