This morning Arthur and I took Wayne to the Klawock airport, and he flew back to his home on Vancouver Island, BC.
That leaves just Arthur and me alone together again, at this place Arthur calls "Rockpit, Alaska." That's Arthur's name for his location. Typically it's called "Port Saint Nicholas" but that invokes images of Santa Claus or some Russian colony that never existed, maybe. I like the name Rockpit.
On a walk down the road, I noticed that fall comes early.
And Raven, observing the world and then taking flight.
As the saying goes, it's "just us chickens," now. But that seems to refer to the neighbors' chickens. The immediate neighbors to the east – with whom Arthur does not really get along – also have goats and dogs, who are somewhat annoying because they generally run loose, and no one informed them as to the location of the property line. So yes, I have seen goats on Arthur's front porch, and dogs on his dock. Of course out in the woods, there are bears.
I no longer have any excuse to not work on some of the unpleasant projects hanging over me: e.g., my tax problem. This has me somewhat depressed.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km]
