The day was bright and dry. July landed early and hard. So it seems. Clean light on sun-bleached grass. The world feels thirsty. Already I miss my firth of forth fall.
(Thoughts gathered out on the back deck, paused while reading THE DOG by Joseph O’Neill (hilarious, deep, timely) as I’m watched over by my own keen here-and-now dog (who wants me to join him in the yard for some fetch (or should I say, throw?))).)