By the time Jules woke up Saturday morning, she had made up her mind. She did not waste much time carrying her plan out. She had eaten her lunch and Duncan had fallen asleep for his afternoon nap. She gathered up her phone and headphones and headed out the door for her daily walk. The spring air was crisp and clean, and felt almost dewy, regardless of the bright sun shining down.

 Between the night and sunrise

The dark is silent

—no birdsong, squirrel-kin chatter—

only the moving, shifting, stirring…

deepening…fading…

fellowship of the trees.

Before the sun-lit wind-song leaf-dance,

Merry façade of joy at fate—

Quiet…feeling…fellowship.

Resigned contentment,

Accepting what has always been,

But at the same time, a struggle,

The desire to hold off a little longer

Against the long unknowing winter.

Smiles without laughter,

Unspoken mutual sympathy