Thursday, May 29, 2025. 51.9*, 0650 Sun
Close to 4 this morning while I watched the three, the peeper chorus was dwindling, some singers already taking cover from predators. Our presence does not bother them nor the outside lights, some in their direction glaring. If I walked toward the sound through the field in Pennsylvania they always stopped. I never knew exactly where they were.
Soleil had been up an hour before we went outside the second time. Too high now to visit my room. I don’t miss her shining light into my eyes while I type. No one swims in the pond. Birds fly. Birds sing. Dew will soon vanish without removing pollen from the car.
How many mornings will begin as this is not for me to know.
Art: LJ Austin
