Ghost Kitten, Black Bear

I stood 10 feet from a bear last night and it was a wonderous thing. Their fur doesn't reflect light. It absorbs it. It was a black shadow that walked across the lawn, carrying a bag of garbage. Max went insane, trying to get out of the window, and the mighty hunters, the unicorn meat eating cats, ran in, afraid.

In this very suburban neighborhood that I live in, we are afraid of this bear. But I count it as a marvel to have seen it so close.

Cool has set in, in this most beautiful of autumns. And the days are properly suited to Halloween: dark, rainy, with lowering clouds. The cats spent the day outside, yesterday, scudding about in the woods, like garden wraiths. The field is damp, the color of cut hay. The tree trunks are dark brown now, and run with water. There is a ghostly mist above the field, and the rocks turn blue and black. Tinker Creek is dark grey, and subdued, with the misty rain.

The sacred, white ghost kitten, moves over the grey carpet, like a cloud moving over a field. It is almost her time, invisible in the snow kitten. She will be up for adoption in 2 weeks.

Her pictures cannot do her justice. She has the most enormous blue eyes, that follow me about the apartment.

The leaves change color overnight, and some fall right then, in their solitude. Others linger, to be shaken down by the wind. Or they float listlessly down, in seemingly simple ennui, to their resting place.