That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
These are words from Shakespeare’s 73rd Sonnet. They somehow articulate the many feelings I have on this damp and chilly autumn morning. I am preparing for yet another journey and will keep you apprised of my winding path.
I leave with a heavy heart. For the first time in twenty-two years my loyal little companion, our dear sweet Cairo, will not be waiting impatiently at my door when I return. Cairo died in the early hours of September 23rd, shepherded by my daughter, Jesse Paris Smith. I am writing to tell you that at 11:11 you will receive a personal essay written by Jesse in the wake of Cairo’s passing. I found her words to be a great comfort and wished to share them. Perhaps they will resonate feelings you have for your own beloved companions, extending to all living things and our natural world.
I am sending good wishes to all and will write soon, tramping from city to city.
Patti, this is hard news indeed. Cairo was such a beloved sidekick on our literary adventures here. Take good care of your heart. May Cairo visit Uncle Wiggly so they can revel in a realm without rheumatism. One full of adventures with badger and pelican.
Our beloved little animal companions burrow into our hearts and occupy such a huge unique space in our souls. We memorize their bodies with ours and when they are gone physically we see them still in a glance at an unexpected moment.🐾🐾♥️