Quiet breaths on the back deck, staring out into the fog. Finding a few orange leaves in the trees. Ready for the season change.

Oh, I remember him. He talked about bears.

Hot in the sun, but cool in the shade. I’d rather stand under the merch tent than in the stands.

Drew. David. Dan. Douglas.

The long drive to Vallejo. The recognition of a body that has succumbed to disorder. Sea gulls eating spilled food off the hot asphalt. They still have plywood in the windows. She asks me if I need help with anything. How do you decide between 35 kinds of hair gel?

How many more days are we all willing to walk through these walls of gold and silver streamers?

“What do you daydream about?”

The Mayacamas backlight by the setting sun and that haze that settles in. That’s dreamy.

They’re 86 Gaja.

He is right. It is a good life.