Scene

Walking out of the house to walk Dad to the car, and there is a mockingbird calling to the moon waxing out west over the water. I wheel the trash to the curb and the evening has that flat feel of summer heat, no breeze in from the bay, and it almost feels like a quiet afternoon. Then there is the sudden shock of finding the cushions damp with dew, the promise of cool air and the ocean somewhere in the distance. And the bird warbles on.