Rosie, sniffing the morning air.

Rosie is not allowed on this chair.

A hawk perches on a wire. Two crows caw and divebomb, over and over like it’s choreographed. When a third crow arrives, the hawk tips off the wire and glides away. One of the crows lands in the hawk’s previous spot. As I write this on my phone, a coyote trots past on the wet street.

One year ago, I clipped a leaf from a fiddle leaf fig and plunked it into a pot of dirt. Today, it looks exactly the same.