Doglet was a bored doglet, and had done little all day, other than navigate the yard. Oh, and mustn’t forget the occasional incidents of aerobic barking, at intruders or friends, and at presences real or imaginary.
Her humans saw her pain. Her humans took her to the beach.
The surf was up.
Aided by a high tide, swells from now-distant Hurricane Paulette were pressing in to the shore.
From the dune tops we look up Quenames Cove.
Ducks and geese laze in the sun.
Earlier this summer, someone planted a field with a summer cover crop, I think maybe sudan grass. Two weeks ago the field was almost lime green. Today the field is headed with brown and tan. The plants are feeling the end of summer, and are rushing to set seed.
Also changing color, on the edge of the pond, sedge and rush, saltbush and senescent mallow, all are shifting to the shades of fall.
Then suddenly come toward us swallows.
Swallows, swooping around and above.
They filled the sky around us.
And then as if by signal they soared into the sky.
That’ll be a hard act to swallow.