The River

Sitting on the deck in the dark with an Elmer T. Lee bourbon in hand. Cicadas and crickets competing for attention. The sounds of the Shenandoah River rapids at the bottom of our property. Lightening and thunder rumbling over the mountain, dogs barking in the distance, faint sounds of jets in the night sky, the wind rustling through the tall pine trees. Bright stars forming in the night under the light of the first quarter moon. We hope to be awake long enough to watch the Perseid meteor showers.








Boo is happy, a little older, a little slower, a little lumpier, a lot more gray.


We are far from New York City, trying to feel normal again, trying to push the fear aside and get on with life.

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