It has been raining cats and dogs. Our cats (2 warm grey cats that match) sit on the porch to watch the rain and the hosta. All the barn swallows know they are there and signal to each other their whereabouts. Then the dive bombing begins. The cats are unruffled by this experience acknowedging their superiority. Then, the cats take to sitting under our large light green hosta (which blooms in September with flowers as large as easter lilies and far, far more fragrant) waiting for their prey.
Waiting and tapping their tails. Silent and still fuzzy statues. The inevitable happens. Dinner is served.