The sky is dark today, but I love rain, so I will not complain. Max is adjusting to his new medication for seizures: phenobarbital. It makes him goofy and drooly. The cats don't notice a thing; he is a dog, after all.
All over the neighborhood that I walk, people race to cut the first grass of the year. I love to mow grass. It's the scent of the fresh cut that I love. To mow in the soft light of a late summer evening is an experience like no other in this world. And then there are fireflies. How can anyone think we live without magic?