Between Pavement and Pasture
Today is Valentine’s Day.
February edges steadily toward spring, yet this morning I wake to a landscape locked beneath a silver frost.
The morning starts with a simple errand—a visit to the barber. On a Saturday it is usually busy, so I decide to arrive early, before the doors open, hoping to be first in the chair. My barber is kindly disposed toward dogs, and Carys enjoys the admiration she receives there, so she will come with me.