In the homeland the hardwood trees are mostly bare now, and the tamaracks have entered into their golden glory. Soon they, too, will drop their needles, but for a brief span they are suns.

Their brilliance made the drive north beautiful. Altogether it was a good trip. Yesterday was my car's first long trip with her new rack-and-pinion, and the tight steering made me feel like I was handling a sports car on the curves--an unaccustomed sensation, for sure. Clearly the steering had been deteriorating for a while, but slowly enough to keep me unaware, until things got really flabby. I can almost imagine I'm driving a new car (which, considering the number of pieces I've replaced in the past two years, is more or less true).

I arrived in Wellington to celebration: it's hunting season, and Steve had just gotten a deer. The sorrows of death and life, so tangled. I've never been a hunter, but I understand the confusions of gratitude. How Steve thanked the doe. How winter looms.