August 29, 2008

White Dog sat with me at 6:45pm awaiting Steve's return from work. The sky was already turning toward twilight and the living room was in shadows. "Before too many days pass," I lamented, "we'll need to turn on the lights by now." White Dog brought in a bright yellow crispy dead leaf from the porch to let me know that she understood summer was nearing its end. We resumed our Steve-watch, each of us filled with musings of this season nearly done.