Gratitude first.

Nothing for breakfast. We will need to stop on the way back.

I choose not to fight him about the crocks anymore. It is no way to start a morning.

Today is our last practice.

They seem less organized than I had hoped, but I slow my steps and fall behind them, taking a few pictures of the mustard between the vines.

She’s here! She’s here!

I want to play, but I am still in work clothes. I apologize.

I look at their faces, and for some reason, I am without words. There is so much to say, and yet it doesn’t seem quite like the right time to say it. And I am sad. Maybe it’s just because I am sad.

As expected.

I try to take a picture of the moon, but I am out of practice. I worry that I have lost my touch.