When you have a dog, you get to participate in another creature’s being, a creature who wants to be with you, a human being.
We may not make it through this crisis. But no one can say for sure it is too late.
We have entered the Pyrocene, the Epoch of Fire.
In the Native American tradition, the elder is sacred. The soft whistling song I often hear in the branches has been heard by others as well. Elder’s long association with wind instruments suggests that the magical sound comes not from the wind but rather from the tree itself, as well as any instruments carved from elder branches.
We’ve had two small heat waves since I arrived here in southern France in mid-June. Neither was terrible, neither quite made it to the level of a canicule, a blistering heat bloom usually starting out its career in northern Africa and drifting down onto western Europe where it stagnates over the red-tile roofs…