Zip and I are easy companions. When I take photos in the garden bed (below), Zip appears and sits alongside me quietly, staying away from the camera and the flowers. This has more meaning than expected; I’ve always taken my flower photos alone. The dogs find it boring, but Zip is fascinated.

I dug out my three-year-old Panama hat, which I’ve yet to wear much. It’s excellent; it keeps the sun out of my eyes while I focus on the camera.

The grass and trees are exploding in leaves and colors, and Zip loves to drift in and out of them. This is the perfect time of year for him; he moves almost invisibly in and out of the gardens and the grass. I love how happy he is here.

Every afternoon, I sit on the chairs, look out, and meditate. Zip sits with me on my shoulder, lap, or belly. He looks pretty regal, popping down in the bed and gazing at his kingdom.

He hasn’t done us any harm either; he turns out to be one of the most affectionate of the animals on the farm. And also one of the most murderous, quite a contraction, these cats. He has conquered every corner of the farm, every animal, and every human.

When he lies down in the grass, he is invisible. Many a mole has paid for that with their lives. Zip has entered the Peaceable Kingdom here.