When the old keeper forgot one latch, the 400-pound silverback reached through the steel

the sanctuary opened, when the corridors were quiet and the morning light came pale through the skylights, I would find him near the fig trees with his arms curved loosely in front of him. Not around a person. Not reaching for the mesh. Just resting in that old shape for a few minutes while the building woke around him.

I never wrote grief in the log.continue reading …