We are wading into fall with slow tentative steps. There was the trip to Jack Kerouac’s old place in Hyannis, boys insistent on something more fun, us uncertain if we’d found the right house, still I shot the Polaroid anyway, just in case. Days pass us by leaving a bowl of tomatoes behind. The slumped over sunflower plant harvested with the boys, the little one eating seeds faster than we could squeeze them from the hulls. Reminders of the little pleasures. Books culled from the kitchen shelves. Paint samples brushed on beige and pumpkin-hued walls, variations on white if only we had a Rauschenberg painting of the same color to hang on our future falls. Inside the view will be clean and bright and despite resistance, we carry on. American Dream (the new LCD Soundsystem) on the speakers. Coffee in the pot. A novel in the works. Stay tuned.