It’s a perfect fall day. The sun is strong and the leaves are perfectly ripened in yellow, orange and red. I get to wear a sweater, and I don’t feel bad about turning the heat on this morning to take the chill out of the apartment. Took a walk, and didn't feel bad about wearing a scarf. The air smells wonderful and yet, why does the smell of leaves dying seem so preferable to me than new sprouts in the spring?
Little Miss Kitten is curled up in her purple fuzzy boudoir. The Bose alleviates the quiet that otherwise permeates with Richard’s absence. He’s not loud, but his sounds — listening to football or cricket or movie trailers — are like that white noise that sends babies to sleep, a calming security blanket.