I hold her blue-ribbon leash as we walk to the river. It is good to be walking unfettered by Florentine’s presence. Good not to have to think of witty rejoinders. And on a day of sunlight and near warmth! Yesterday’s snow has melted, and the river rushes on, brown and high, yet today’s sunlight dresses it with light, and all seems more hopeful. But every so often I look over my shoulder and to either side for wild animals, though I cannot believe that they would just charge into our clearing. There is too much noise from the carpentry, the joiners working on new maisons—another hopeful sign—and on La Grande Maison, too. I remove my gloves and find a stick to throw for Sylvette. For this I must release the blue ribbon. It always makes me worry that she might just rush off into the woods, on the scent of something. And then that will be the end of her. “Sylvette, stay close now, ma petite. Here is your stick.” I toss it nearby and she runs, in her ribbons and jacket—a comical sight.
