Thin Slice and Siesta

A cool breeze refreshed the air in the kitchen, the light seems golden, autumn has arrived .
The cups are warm on my fingers as I unstack them from the dishwasher. Pete sits lazily on the tile with his nose pressed up against the dusty screen. He scans the dry landscape outside for the neighbor hood cat. He seem so insulted and disgusted that the other cats in the neighborhood can wonder outside with ease and he could not. Poor Pete he will never understand, he would not last very long with all the wild animals, coyotes, bob cats never mind the hawks that circle over head casting deep shadows that are larger then him. It’s been a hot summer and the desert hills are a light yellow ochre, with the monsoon storms, the rain will soon swell with brittle bush bursting with bright yellow tiny sunflowers. The fresh smell of the creosote bush will hang damp in the air. The call of the quail startle Pete to his feet and opens his mouth ready to pounce. Wiping the counters down and taking out the trash, my mind wonders to the days ahead, the bins are full of neatly cut mesquite tree branches as I push down the lid my eyes scan the horizon for the looming monsoon clouds that threaten more violent storms tonight. I decide to pulling in the cushions and towels then closing the back door behind me I cuddle up with my cats and have a siesta.

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