I was thinking about joy yesterday and trying to remember where I used to find it. And while I was thinking about it the subject of happiness came up as did pleasure and I began to wonder how inter-related they all were and if you could have one without the others.

Yesterday was an ordinary day until about five p.m. Then I got the text, along with pictures, that my wife’s monument had been placed. Nothing like a ton of gray granite with your loved one’s name engraved on it to announce the finality of death.

I finally planted the Pansies. Originally scheduled for porch pots, I put them in the ground. Now I can see them when I look out the kitchen window.

It’s a cold, spare morning today, just like the other cold, spare mornings that preceded it this week. There’s nary a breeze, and it’s setting up to be a nice day. Should be easy on a personal level as well.

Standing in the dark of my yard, staring across the dark of the park next door, I can see above the tree line the Christmas lights of Pedernales Electric co-op.

Yesterday, I decided I needed something to contemplate, some tiny thing. Some obscure thing that didn’t even know I was looking. Some thing that could use a good writing about, even though most folks wouldn’t give it a second glance.

The husband of my wife’s favorite cousin passed away last night. The software I’m using to write this suggests I simply say he died. It feels a little abrupt. Passing away implies a continuation of a journey, which is something I’m certain he believed. So, I’m going to stick with that.

Another brisk morning. There’s the smell of smoke from my neighbor’s woodburning stove. A little clutch of deer is grazing along the fence. The first hints of traffic are moving down highway 290. The air is clear, and a waning moon is hanging in the western sky.

It’s a nice feeling in the bed beneath the covers in the dark on a cold morning. Everything feels just right. It’s that magical time before you’re born again into a new day.

Our big flame leaf sumac finally gave us a show of color this year, less the scarlet seen on a few of its roadside cousins, but enough red and yellow to qualify as a fall spectacle.