Hermit crabs are my friends.
I will miss this, I really will.
Sitting outside on my deck writing, laptop warm against my thighs and notebook pressing into the crook of my elbow. My dog sits near me, chewing on a leaf or something (as he does) as a gentle breeze, barely able to even be called a breeze, touches my shoulder and the tips of the trees’ leaves. I can hear the crickets starting to chirp through my headphones– there’s was a heat stroke in the Bay Area this weekend and the last of it seems to be ebbing away now. The fog is finally starting to roll back in over the mountains to cool down the air, saving my breath.