Sometimes, when I go out in the gray hour when night is ending, to pick up the morning paper, the cat from across the street comes over to say hello. She is about the color of the pavement, so I seldom see her until she meows. There's another paper delivered about this time, so I always worry about the nearly-invisible cat crossing the street. Those paper guys don't pay much attention to their driving.
It has cooled very slightly, but I doubt that Sluggo is going to last more than a couple more minutes today. Computers annoy me no end.
Listen to those birds!
After a slightly cooler day, clouds began to form in the afternoon. Evening was a mass of rumpled gray. For a while, it looked as though there might be rain, and the air grew stifling. It is a bit clearer now, and a few stars have emerged. San Francisco continues to hog the cool air. They were in the low 60's again today. Oh, the envy! Well, they'll get paid back in autumn, when the place usually heats up and the bay begins to stink with the summer's accumulation of muck.
Someone around here has a peacock. I hear it screaming in the distance, over toward the canyon. I haven't actually seen a peacock since I was very young. The people who lived behind us had several of them roaming about their five acres. I once had a feather from one of them, which it had dropped near our fence. The green part of it was a most enjoyably lurid shade. I wonder what became of that feather? Probably got left behind when we moved from that house. Lots of stuff gets left behind. Lots of stuff never gets seen again.