When it rains at night there are a thousand toads on the road home, and we stop the leaking truck to move them aside. The raindrops are fat and heavy and fall from twisted oak boughs to wash the cabin skylights. Mattie Dog curls up on a sleeping bag called The Cat's Meow 20 Degree. I wrap myself in the new-smelling Pomer Hoit (it is too hot here and belongs in the mountains) and sink into the sage couch next to hot tea and a snoring puppy to think about islands and granite. The coyotes and the turkeys are quiet. We all listen closely as winter arrives on Paradise Road.
Silly adventures in wild places with a girl and her dog.