From the outside, looking in. My dad came by to fix my gate and I did a bit of gardening, though I should really just call it weeding. I was buttoned up in my oldest shirt, hat on and 50+ across my nose and in the shadow between my sleeve and my gardening gloves. It felt good to be in the sun, making slow progress.
The seasons are shifting here, it felt like the warm breath of spring long into the evening, the kind of mild night where you drink the leftover chardonnay and make easy salmon and veggie bowls and listen to Daniel Johnston with the front door open.