walking around in the dark plot between stony island and the museum in the strange cultivated community of trees i look back and mister is standing by a small twisted dwarf apple blind in the double darkness of night blindness. i light my camera flash to show him the way but he may see the burst as a glaring monster beyond which he sees nothing familiar. i touch him ok mister and loop the leash to lead him to the line of streetlights, and see the bottom of the moon hanging from a branch just above us. when we get back to bed r. writes me from her dog-watching station, there's a beautiful half moon in the western sky.