Long cold nights mark November's return, grey rains fall, wind walks in the bronze oak leaves.
What would happen if all the populations on the planet simply refused to fight human beings they did not even know?
I love both the way a dog looks up to me and a cat condescends to me.
I suppose I am a sparrow, a stay-at-home bird.
Dog lovers are a good breed themselves.
Old houses, I thought, do not belong to people ever, not really, people belong to them.