Tuesday, May 20, 2025. 47.3* Misty
Seven birds carry on, four of them warblers. Treetops sway like lovers on a summer beach. Past the container, only green, the ground itself unseen. Ostrich ferns and others unidentified have unfolded; Lily of the Valley waits for the perfect temperature to display her flowers. Dandelions hold their brightness closed waiting for Soleil to touch them. Boulders snuggle under moss blankets rich and thick. Another tree has fallen into the rising pond. More leaves have opened.
I spotted a smaller Great Blue Heron flying through the trees heading downstream yesterday. Heard my first Bobolink, my first Magnolia Warbler. Zayne appeared enchanted watching rain splash into a ditch; a little anxious later, eyes darting to the door probably wondering when someone will knock on or open it. Zayne came when I coughed, got as close to my face as possible. Only when satisfied that I was okay did he lie down. While I measured out breakfast for three, Zayne played with the only ball (it no longer squeaks).
Love is found in the everyday things,
the things that create the intimacy of belonging.
Photo: LJ Austin
