

Discover more from Patti Smith
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.
A morning message
A beautiful message, capturing the sense of those 'bare ruined choirs' so thoughtfully
I too had a wonderful rescue, her name was Inka. She was black with tawny long legs and small paws who ran like an African cat. She became my daughter’s 1st service dog. They literally grew up together. We lied on the floor for nearly 2 days as Rubi held onto her very best friend pleading, “ please don’t leave me, don’t go don’t die”.
I think with all of the courageous moments Rubi has endured in her health and willingness to survive, loosing that dog was so difficult to witness. But yet, she is ok. And sometimes witnessing anything in our paths can be ok. Love