Wednesday, 4 November. 9°C, fog through the morning, clear by afternoon.
A quiet day, which is the kind of day this is mostly for.
Up at 7:10. The dog is fed at 7:18, as she has been since spring. 1,940 steps in the first hour — the loop she walks before the rest of the family is awake. The fog photograph at 7:32 is the only photograph of the day. It is also one of the best photographs of the year.
The kitchen radio reports the same world news she will see again later in the day: the headline about the storm in Vietnam. Coffee. Two pieces of toast. The crossword.
At 09:15, a voice note that begins “I want to write about my mother again” and continues for four minutes.
The afternoon disappears the way Wednesdays disappear — three calls, two meetings, the laundry, the laundry again. No photographs after 7:32.
Evening: 41 minutes of reading, one glass of wine, one song played three times.
A year ago today: the dog was four months old. Same loop, same fog, much more rain.