We've all been feeling a little under the weather lately- that warm, raw tenderness that precedes a cold. Yesterday when i arrived home, we dragged a little mat alongside the woodstove and we three- wife, husband, and greyhound- all fell asleep together. The feeling of calm that accompanied that moment is one i won't soon forget- a miracle of syncopations in the rise and fall of their breathing. Bands of sun worked their way across the mullions and splayed themselves on the walls at odd angles, ripening from a mottled gold to faded pink.
Outside, matted tawny fields stretched out towards the ocean, and the logs in our woodstove popped and shifted in the dense silence of the room.