I woke up from a dream: I'm urging Marsha to apply to teach at camp, and also to be forthright about what she'll need. She's still using her wheelchair, but I tell her to ask for somebody to help her eat lunch, since I can't guarantee I'll be available. (This is mixing history, since she could feed herself long after she was bedridden.) And she'll need to make sure her path is in the Great Barn. I tell her I want her to have the experience of camp. When I wake up, I remember that we're moving from Claymont to Four Quarters Farm this year, so no Great Barn. Then I remember that Marsha's dead.
I got out of bed at 4:44 a.m. (So I'm informed by somebody's cell phone charging in the bathroom.) I'd never have noticed that on an analog clock.
Just above freezing.
On the branch,
One leaf unfallen.