42. Welcome at love's table

This season of interlude, post-AC, pre-heater, doors and windows open, smudging the line between inside and out.

The pleasant chill riding in on the morning and evening air, and simple buffers: socks, corduroy, tea. 

The stripes and speckles in the apple I took to work, a 3D still life delicious to the eye for hours before the bite. 

The tribespeople who welcomed me late and empty-handed to the potluck, from the guy outside who said, "There's a plate in there with your name on it" to the gal inside who said, after the desserts had disappeared, "Do you want a piece of sweet potato pie? I have one left." 

Jil Chambless's version of Julie Miller's song "By Way of Sorrow" coming around on the CD as I drove away, its line "You who once were left behind will be welcome at love's table" one of the reasons I will press repeat repeatedly.

And a long phone visit with my brother, which was greater than all of the above combined.

What fed you today?

This is not today's pie.