A man’s memory might have only a hundred clear days in it and he has lived thousands. Can’t do much about that. We have our store of days and we spend them like forgetful drunkards. I ain’t got no argument with it, just saying it is so.

–Sebastian Barry, Days Without End

It’s a miracle to realize that somebody loves you.

—James Baldwin, If Beale Street Could Talk

November

Scrub fields, blue sky, and the last of the autumn leaves. Winter’s not here, but he’s looking out from these grey-soon woods and testing the air.