Urnie

Hot day punctuated by the sounds of barking dogs and the neighbor's tractor. He sold his farm near the coast and says he never worked as hard he does now that he's retired.

As the sun rises higher, the dogs have all sprawled somewhere cool, the birds I was trying to photograph have vanished, the quaint bench made from an oxcart yoke just looks sad and the massive heritage oak by the driveway refuses to stand out from the trees behind it as it does in the winter.

The grapes look too much like yesterday's tomatoes.

I think I will settle for this handmade urn filled with dried plants from my daughter's garden,
and adjourn for a glass of wine on the deck as the day begins to cool off.