photo by Matt Reinbold

A quiet night flight, a flicker of shadow so brief and slight that I thought it might be a moth, and it didn’t even wake my dog from her evening repose. A dozen or so circles, skimming the ceiling rafters and dodging through the skeletons of unfinished walls. Finally, Koda roused and, confused about where the shape was coming from or going to, gave a few exploratory barks. Our visitor disappeared.  This afternoon, I can’t find a hole or a home anywhere that would hold the creature.

Was this is how it happened to Bruce?