In my mother’s backyard in the Californian October, there is only one spot of shade that is protected all day.
We put a desk there to make a little room. Some chairs, The dog, A peach, she cuts into seven imperfect slices.
From here, we can see the hummingbirds dancing in the dome of rain shower blooming up from the garden hose.
From here, the lemons are hard and green. And nothing bad has happened yet.
So little is needed in the light.
