At Full Height

The paths in a Tall Flower Meadow close in. The blooming color builds.

Two weeks later the Doghobble cuttings are looking good. They should be making roots. The plant's very growth habit is that of a walking shrub.

Collar is fourteen years old and having issues. How long will she last? 

Joe Pye is in full bloom.

In a jumbled chaos the maintenance gardener wanders out to mow open the paths.

To go looking for some order in a free-falling world. How long does anything last?

(It appears Miss Collar lasted six more hours after I posted this. I laid down to take a nap. Forty minutes later Collar had vanished without a trace. Without a sound. I left her in the shade on the grassy drive with the other cats out to enjoy a most pleasant afternoon with the door open so I could hear any commotion. When I woke up she was gone, back to the mountain top forest she has known since birth. I would imagine she had a safe place in mind. I will be shocked if a cat in her condition returns. Miss Collar had a very cozy life for a wild thing.)

Never mind. She came knocking on the front door at 10:15. Next time I am not walking all over the mountain looking for her. Calling her name doesn't help because I am quite certain she has gone deaf. There isn't much time left.