Monday, May 19, 2025, 49.8* Overcast
One bird for each hour sang at five: new to the morning chorus a Veery. In days, leaves, shades of green, shades of red will finish painting the outstretched limbs of trees. In days, the sky will disappear from this window as the canvas of spring changes.
Mariah shakes spindly trees like dust mops. Aware of Mariah’s whims, the more substantial trees are not intimidated. Zsolt too stands defiantly something troubling his nervous soul. He does not want to sit; does not want to wait for the barrier to be removed so he can wander with the other two inside the fenced-in-land. Perhaps Zsolt remembers, longs for walking, for running through fields, for exploring again and again the path lined with pines.
Memory is not just the imprint
of the past time upon us;
it is the keeper of what is meaningful
for our deepest hopes and fears. -- Rollo May
ICM Photo: LJ Austin
