I watered the roses in the morning because they continue to bloom extravagantly. This week the high temperatures during the day still topped 80 degrees. I stopped to smell the two pink roses; they have a wonderful delicate citrus scent. There is a metaphor for life here.
Sunset comes just after six o’clock now. I drew MJ to the windows in the music room to see the silhouette of Jerry’s pine tree against the setting sun. All twenty or so feet of it. MJ looked beyond to a ridge a few miles away behind which the sun sets. Along the top of the ridge is a line of valley oaks, perfectly outlined by the last light of the sun. She tells me that is her favorite image of the land when the sun leaves for the day. The gazebo and the western facing corner of the yard is a beautiful soulful spot.
A Year at the Snake 