How strange it feels to know we will be moving on in a week.
I will miss our casita, especially the evenings like this one. While I watch birds flit between the mesquite trees, Samwise and Emily are engaged with their marrow bones. They've reached the point where each has moved on to the other's bone. It is a peaceful exchange, and they'll continue taking turns until the bones are scraped and sucked clean.
Beyond the fence, the waning sun paints the mountains to the north a peach and rosy glow. Not blindingly bright like the dawn hour. It's more comforting, a way to ease into the sweet purple that precedes the darkness and welcomes stars and moon. Soon, we'll move inside and light a fire.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Tom Ryan, Author to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.