after i was done, watered everything, trimmed back the tall grasses to allow new growth, managing to stab myself deep under the nail while grabbing a stalk. i do this every year.
my dogs sad, watching me from the deck, not allowed down on the grass while i work, in case they try to dig under a fence, or the gate swings open. the latch can catch in the wind. i need to look into that, too. later, later.
this morning i wake to a haze over the landscape, an orange-red sun. i guess wildfire season has begun. i take the dogs out for a pee, and the smoke is thick and heavy. i remember that just a hundred companies are responsible for seventy-one percent of all emissions. i think about this as people talk about personal choices, things that we, individually, can do. the robins singing through the smoky haze. the blackbirds stomping down the fence.