Days

Lately, when Tap and I go out for the first time in the day, he stretches out and suns, and I find a shady spot to sit and read.  It takes me back to summers when I was little, going out first thing in the morning and seeing if my firends were awake and outside.  Those mornings were cool, though you could tell it was going to be hot later.  They were quiet, and we sat in the shade and colored or played Barbies or Rook or pick-up sticks or whatever our Pasttime of the Moment was.  The memories are clear and fond and triggered by nothing more than senses.

The vultre was absent all weekend, and stopped in for a very brief visit yesterday.  After all those hours, by the way, the only thing (s)he left behind was

A tiny pinfeather.  Still, a feather nonetheless.  It has been added to the collection of feathers at the front door.