Feral

 October 2, 2026

Mrs Jarvis is dead. 

Digging, mulching, planting of new iris, dividing of old iris, planting of alium. 

Sat and watched my feral cat at the pond’s edge. He and I both watched the greeny-gold fall warblers at their play. His coloring blended so well with the weeds that I wouldn’t have seen him except for the time his paw touched the water. My little world needed him, needed a hungry and silent predator to keep everything on its toes.