The apples have begun falling from the trees, as happens about the time when blackberries begin to ripen. The deer have shown up to partake in the gleanings, softly, tentatively, and I’m reminded of how even the birds of the air are provided for. I am oddly comforted by this fact when news comes through my text (“And so life goes on,” she says) followed by a photo and link to the real estate sale listing of our big house. The one we built for our grandchildren to someday visit, the one we ultimately left and downsized from ten years ago, the one PRESENT referenced and we spent many, many podcast episodes discussing. THAT house. It was the first time I had looked upon that big house since I left it almost twenty years ago (had it been so long?).
I bit. I was curious and clicked the link and everything else in my world disappated. The owners had painted the house a dove gray, and repainted everything else, but the rooms were the same: the downstairs co…