It’s raining. I’m pick blueberries. Aki whines and shivers. She waits for me to launch her Frisbee over the muskeg. But, I am in a harvest mood on this mountain meadow. Already the blue berry plant leaves yellow and redden toward their fall color. Some of the berries are over ripe and drop at the slightest touch. We need another gallon to get through the winter. But Aki whines so I toss the Frisbee and return to work. If the little dog were home and dry my mind would drift into areas where creative ideas are harvestable. But she is here, wet and pathetic. Tossing her Frisbee is the only creative thing I can to do.