Monday, July 7, 2025, 64.2* 0609
After I had shut down and unplugged computer, printer, television, phone; after I closed the umbrella, after I brought in 2 plastic owls, the snow brush, a light, things from the deck that would easily be taken by the wind, the warned thunderstorm darkened the skies. I locked the door, left the curtains open to watch the storm because thunder scares me. Another night, another reprieve. How many storms warned will never reach me?
Seen from a dog’s height, something. Something in the pond or surrounding area camouflaged where green things thrive. One bark ignites two others. Zayne jumps higher than this five-foot fence. He could jump over. Perhaps jumping is his way of threatening; to appear larger than he is to intimidate what I can’t see. Maybe he seeks a better view. Can his eyes hold onto the predator while he’s in the air? Soleil silvers fog on the pond, turns leaves gold. Very few spider strings to brush away. No dew. Birds sing in freshened air. A morning to sit on the deck. I should put the things I brought inside last night back in their places, open the umbrella. The three want us to go inside. I snuff the torches I just lit.
Ground Yourself: Sit, watch, be.
Photo: LJ Austin
