We play catch on the patio.
Mourning doves lift off from the shrubbery with a clatter like rattles shaken over a happy baby's crib and the baby's chortling answer.
I am three again. Or is he three?
I have to aim care- fully. Allez-oop! WHOOPS. I cavort for two. Bird of Paradise spreads stiff wings in the locked garden.
2River