Half inch of rain overnight on Paradise Hill in the Catskill Mountains. Then a day of gray mist and green-gold light. The collie puppy chews on a stick out in the yard. A wood thrush is singing in the woods.
Now a voice on the radio tells the story of a shooting yesterday in Las Vegas. A well-armed young couple killed three people, including two police officers who were just sitting eating their lunch in a pizza joint. Then the young couple went across the street into Walmart, killed another person, and made their last stand deep in the aisles of the megastore. They were soon surrounded by police. A gunfight ensued. In the end, the woman killed her husband, then herself. She was from Indiana and used to work at a place called Hobby Lobby. “Completely senseless,” says the radio voice. Today this is news. Tomorrow is another story.
The collie puppy has tired of the stick. He returns to the house. I pour some buttermilk into his bowl. He likes buttermilk. The wood thrush continues his song.