The hours

The western light at Jake's is fey. There is no capturing what appears to the naked eye. It's much warmer and more resonant than this; the greenery skulks. As you watch, the colors change, and a cow out there in the pasture moans and groans.  

Jake's two cats read the invisible messages from my furred posse at great length.  The same thing happens in reverse when I get home. Mine are all over and in the bag smelling what cat life is like in a strange place days away.

At home I have a catnip plant growing out on the high deck. I brought a fistful of stalks and leaves for Nibbler and Milo. Much hilarity ensued. The silliness followed by delicious naps.

 

Charlie is enjoying seventh grade. He seems to take it all in stride.