It was a gorgeous afternoon, so I laid down in the soft, late summer grass. The guest dogs decided they would join me. They lounged with me, leaning against me, relaxing, licking my attentive hands, just being dogs, lost and found.
A train blew its horn and crossed Pine heading north – 3 orange electric diesel locomotives leading the way. I watched for a few seconds, deciding in the end that I didn’t feel like counting the cars. Crossing the street, a faint tickle hit my nose, and I stared up at the street light to see the gentlest fine flakes of snow just starting to settle downward.