I have been watching, day in day out, an old man and his little very old white dog sitting throughout spring and summer, motionless together on the lawn, overlooking the back cove with its busy traffic of people, cars, and dogs. One time last winter, the old man and the dog were suddenly gone. Within a week, I was convinced that only a tragic event could account for their continued absence, and I convinced myself and Maureen that one or both had died. Then one day, to my delight, without missing a beat, the old man was back with his dog, sitting motionless at the curb. It took me a couple of days to realize that the dog, although still white and little, was a different dog, a younger version of the old one. Since their return, every day the old man has continued to sit with his young dog motionless at the curb watching the traffic pass by.

Today, for the first time I saw the old man, out of breath, walking happily with his little young dog around the back cove. Finally in motion, I thought to myself.