After dinner if there's time, the creek is just a few blocks from home. We skip rocks. I botanize.
Constellations of queen anne's lace nod among the goldenrod. Everything goes pink for a few minutes as the sun sets.
Later, a campfire out by the back fence. I curl into my sleeping bag for warmth, and shiver inside, eventually, but not before pausing to look up. The spellbinding intensity of stars.
Lots of wind, and rain, and leaves and twigs everywhere Sunday.
In the end, a house and a town that kept us safe. Continuity. Morning sunlight in the front windows.
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