Solitude.
Slow, contented breaths.
Chill breeze on the nose.
The scent of apples.
A barking dog.
Pricks by grassy stems.
The warmth of a retired sun fading from the fur and ears and eyelids.
Cacophonous hush of leaves in a gust of wind.
Soft, heavy thuds from fruit falling to Earth.
Distant laughter.
Vibrant plumes of orange surrounding ribbons of vermilion-streaked clouds low behind the boughs. Indigo fields overhead.
A crawling insect.
Singing insects all about.
The deceptively sweet odor of fermenting, rotting fruit.
Pressure of the tail curled tightly.
A shiver down the spine.
Pinpricks of light in the deepening sky.
A call to supper.
Sore joints, stiff limbs. A tug behind the ear.
Shake.
Crunching steps.
Most of a constellation.
Mommy and Pappy's tree.
Many, many more trees.
Home.