Last week Hurricane Ike hurled away from the coast, whipped through our midwestern backyard, and slit our tree to reveal its heart. The heartbroken tree cracked open our greenhouse glass.
This morning, while I was filling the five-gallon bucket with water to take to the goats, the sky was pink yellow in the rising east, and I saw two deer standing silhouetted in the gravel-laned distance. We stared at each other openly, and then they wandered away. I grabbed the bucket and walked west to the goat yard. I peeked into goldenrod looking for the duck and found, suspended in the willows, a spider web capturing the dewy dawn.
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