Something Magical This Way Comes

Along the Saco on Sunday morning.

As November ticks by, I find myself smiling over a cup of peppermint green tea in our little country kitchen. It's a well-lit space connected to the living room. Two large windows sit over the sink and countertop, framing a hopeful birch tree and the evergreens across the street.

The cabinets are maroon, and the contrast between natural sunlight and the cozy cave-like feel where I cook brings me joy. Lately, I've taken to writing at the kitchen table instead of in the den. It has to do with how the season draws me here: a platter of apples and oranges in front of me, the ever-present kettle, and a cheery blue soup pot on the stove.

Today is one of those rare mornings when Samwise and Emily are not next to me. Six times a year, they visit the groomers. Neither likes being dropped off because it is the only time we are not together, but once with Tracy and her staff at Ultimutt Cut, Emily luxuriates in getting bathed and clipped. Oh, how she tips her hea…