Evening in September, at the base of Cucamonga Peak

I'm eating dinner outside, with a blue sky above me and a gray sky just north, above and behind Cucamonga Peak. Maybe it's the thunder shower I've been hearing is coming in. The setting sun highlights the peaks and shadows the valleys of the mountain while adding pink to the gray of the cloud over it.

Bela, at 5 months the youngest and ever the provocateur, is grabbing Sadie's leg, then Jimmy's ear, and then there is a pile of fur and legs and teeth as these three tussle. Up they jump and begin a race around the yard where the chaser can suddenly become the chasee. Bela is only 14 pounds but has inordinately long legs and a feisty attitude which allows her to keep up with older, bigger, and heaver dogs.

The leaves of my neighbor's tall row of aspen trees shake and rustle in a light breeze. Two hummingbirds flit through, then fly high into the sky, down again, and zoom off. I can hear the sound of children at play in the cul-de-sac just below me. The scrub jay comes to get his peanuts, returning until they are all gone. When I came out earlier he was sitting on the unopened peanut bag on the picnic table. I had bought it earlier and was distracted by something else and forgot to put out peanuts for him. But he spotted the bag.

The dogs played, the birds flew, I ate a lovely dinner, and the clouds moved to the east. The sun set.