As though made of copper the stalks of grass seem to glint in the form of puffy white stars, earth-bound and small as they appear overhead. Bands of sun light the stray field in Greenville, North Carolina, illuminating bits of fluff as they spray from their homes and fasten to the greying fur of my dog as he leaps gleefully past. This was a fitting spot for his final walk before being put down—twinkling, soft, cool, home.
