I’m feeling mammalian this morning: very nearly furry.

As I woke, I was just a little animal whose warm weight was even this moment leaving a warm imprint in the nest of my bed.  I felt both front paws tucked together under my chin.  I felt the imprint—in the curl of my body—of the fetus I once was.

And I feel the turn of the season.  Summer has nearly broken; first light comes later now.  It’s the first morning that the heat of my imprint before I first move, feels luxurious.

I stretch; my shoulders crackle.