Friday, August 8, 2025, 49.1*, 77% RH 0602
One startled me as I looked over the railing. Where have they been before now, the granddaddy long legs spiders exploring the siding, the deck? Dew provides water to bloom but not to quench, not to fill the stream. Two jousting raise a cloud of dust that drifts though there doesn’t seem to be a breeze. I did learn about how one object acts on another and about propulsion. Easier to watch, to dream. Many days I’ve watched their clouds move across the driveway rising into trees at which point I lose sight of them. I remember sitting on the deck mornings with coffee last year, after I had walked the three separately, fed them, put them back in their crates in my son's garage until lunch time when I’d repeat the ritual. I wanted to be here. I wanted to find order in the jumble of boxes and broken relics of the move. I wanted to listen, hearing aids among the missing. Chris told me there was noise. I enjoyed the bliss.
In every setback there is a gift.
Photo: LJ Austin
