We're in the middle of harvest. There are tons of grapes along the drive. When I woke up before daybreak a thick fog sat low on the yellowing vines that weave past my window and up the hill. I don't like the smell from the first fermentation, but it was comforting mixed with the dense fog. The full moon was about to set, the rooster began to crow. I stepped into my kitchen for a fresh cup of jo and looked out my window to catch a ginormous fox fleeting through the wood. Likely caught the jack rabbit racing through the dry creek.
I sat near the window to watch the stockmarket and the sunrise.
