Friday light through the maples does something to me

Spent the afternoon cleaning my old climbing harness — not because I need it, just because it's the kind of leather and stitching you want to hold once in a while. The light was doing that late-October thing where every leaf on the street is lit from underneath, and I thought: I've been looking up for forty years and it still surprises me. Anyway, the harness fits like a memory. That's all.