Sunday, July 13, 2025, 68.1* 0908
Air cool, hands cold. Five birds carry on exchanging Sunday greetings. No chainsaws nor roosters join the chorus of an overcast day. A day cast with silver skies, low clouds, some sun, humidity, the odor of trapped air. Not quite. Temperature inversions are not part of the forecast, perhaps machines leave that knowledge for olfactory observation.
Under my desk, Zsolt follows me with his eyes making sure I don’t go further than the window to open blinds. Coffee in the slate blue cup waits, cools as I randomly enjoy small sips. Mariah flounces leaves, some fall waiting too long for a drink.
The phone wants me to review a screen time notification. Thursday, leaving the doctor’s office I spoke to the rectangle of light, our portable font of knowledge: “Siri. Take me home.” Siri replied: “I’m having trouble with that. Try again later.” Siri had provided independence months after I moved here, afraid to venture out after getting lost trying to find a gas station on my own. I couldn’t find a main road. I don’t like to be lost. Siri made driving less stressful. I didn’t have to read road signs, didn’t need to know which lane to drive in, didn’t have to keep looking at the odometer to measure miles in increments before my next turn. I didn’t have to plan an alternate route or know which way to turn at the end of a detour. I could just drive not holding my breath.
Remember how to use the tools of the past.
Art: LJ Austin
