On a Saturday morning in the middle of October, you will sit on your porch and let your coffee warm itself in the sun. Your child will be nearby, toddling around in a shirt and a diaper, peeking through the shrubs to watch the traffic — constant, hurried, loud. The cat will be somewhere around you, eating spider webs and green things, relishing his momentary freedom. You’ll be planning your day, trying to plot out showers and travel times and parking spots and meals and naps. You’ll look at your child’s head full of hair and wonder how the spinning globe we’re riding on got us all to this one moment in time, and you’ll sip your coffee again, its warmth extended for a little while by the sun’s efforts.