Wednesday, March 12, 2025, 30.6* (Real feel 24*)
Not enough for two, probably too much for one, unmeasured the remains of Hazelnut Creme pour into the filter’s gaping mouth. Perhaps some cream will erase the bitter.
Slow steady breeze from the north northwest cools the morning another 6 degrees, does nothing to blow away the sleep still clinging as we stand outside a second time. A bronze ball rising this morning, skirts or perhaps blankets caught on branches, Soleil walks through the trees. The three know this is not snow, this is not slush underfoot; cautiously they slide step their way.
Again, the pond is latched under ice the spring unable to move, to spread its ripples out.
“And let us not grow weary of doing good,
for in due season we will reap,
if we do not give up.”
Galatians 6:9
Photo: LJ Austin
