Late to the porch this morning by a change in routine for today. Still, I made before the sun–can’t totally miss early morning! The sun is painting the trees, the fall air soft and still. Birds are making a real racket, a few diehard crickets giving background music, and squirrels scampering through the trees.
The porch is too quiet. Punk, our old gray tabby is absent. This is highly unusual. This area of the porch is Punk’s domain. My hope is that because I was an hour late bringing food, he has simply gone off for a bit. I immediately despair at his absence, mentally wring my hands, and I hear what Jim always used to say to calm me and give me hope when a cat went missing: “Yes, usually he’s here, but sometimes he does go off.” Please God, bring Punk home safe.
Sunlight creeps across the pasture and one of the hens starts cawing from back in the henhouse. It’s time to get moving into my day. I’ll get shoes on and go look for Punk. Once again the Robert Frost quote comes to mind–“In three words I can sum up everything I know about life: It goes on.”