Today's sky provided me with cirrus clouds to soften the glare and summon thoughts of the sea. Now the sunset has turned the white streaks to luminous shades of rose and lavender. All afternoon, the birds chirped and squawked, and the woodpeckers hammered at trees and utility poles. The sourgrass, which I finally remembered to water late last night, has displayed its gratitude by regaining some green in its leaves. Dusk has now wakened the insects. When the sound of the katydid lapses, I hear the chirps of the few remaining crickets. Elegiac days loom, falling toward longer and quiet nights. From the porch, the cat watches the world fade, and I sit listening to the diminishing sound of cars headed toward the mountains or the valley. The trees turn to a single dark shape around me, and I sense the miles of forest they conceal. For some reason, I am still thinking about the sea.