Seal, the newfoundland that lives in a house on the corner of the Grove is being washed by her master. She is tethered to a gate post, while he directs a hose over her sleek fur. She is called seal because as a puppy, she resembled one. Now she looks like a seal again.
In the tops of the trees there is a hustling and a gentle rumbling as a chill wind rises. A small flock of starlings rises and wheels overhead.