The valley is so foggy this morning that I can't see the horse
meadows, just glowing, pink-gold-white mounds of fluff. It's cool, still, and the trees are threaded with
sunlight. Such lovely patterns form on the east-facing side of the
trees, and that's what I get to watch, looking out a west-facing window at sunrise.
__________
The day cleared and turned into one of the treasures of the world: a perfect, sunny, temperate, lush June day. Last year June 15 was just such a day, too. One year ago today old Mr. Misty walked out into the air, sniffing and listening, slow and careful in his blindness but full of catly dignity, and did not come back. For all my searching, he made no response, and so he did not stay "safe"within my circle of influence, but went with his joy in the natural world. I miss him still, and remember.
__________
The day cleared and turned into one of the treasures of the world: a perfect, sunny, temperate, lush June day. Last year June 15 was just such a day, too. One year ago today old Mr. Misty walked out into the air, sniffing and listening, slow and careful in his blindness but full of catly dignity, and did not come back. For all my searching, he made no response, and so he did not stay "safe"within my circle of influence, but went with his joy in the natural world. I miss him still, and remember.
No comments:
Post a Comment