Cobwebs

It's chilly outside right now, and the coffee brews as I wait impatiently. The dog snores at my feet. Of course, the unicorn meat eating cats are in and out. I had a lovely weekend with some friends, and the lack of Abilify does not seem to be bad, as yet. No attacks of paranoia, no racing thoughts...

I have especially missed you this weekend. Max looked for you beside the field, and the woods made that sound, that sigh they make before the leaves change. The grass was stirred by the wind, with the sunlight. The butterflies on the zinnia dance crazily off toward the field, and we circled it, looking for the lines of the fall to come. The goldenrod is out, with it's golden, autumn color. The birds swirl endlessly and look for berries, and worms, and a way out of the winter.

The eternal hours of fall sound on the wind, the rocks. The leaves gather in the corners, like mice, and scatter before the cats' paws. Max changes his colors from a summer pup to a fall dog, nose to the wind, hiding under the unchanged maple tree. The breeze stirs his excitement, and it comes out as a Red Tick bark. He doesn't have the corgi bark, or the terrier bark, but the bark of the Red Tick hound. It comes out as his summer fur does, in doses.

The grass is silvered this morning, as are the cobwebs...

The coffee is done. I am glad you are awake.