Driving east on I-90, a change after yesterday’s guinea chicks toddling along the pasture edge after their mother. But return home to Cabinworld we must. Gil craves his writing desk, I want my own bed and down time after the last, Midwestern leg of the book tour, Maud to trade her tractor and farm boots for anthro texts and NYC stilettos, Oliver to return to his secret places In the cedar grove above the marsh. It’s been a busy-sweet season, now, as always in Fall, renewal comes with the crisp air.