Tuesday, September 2, 2025, 52.3*, 90% RH, 0707
A Hairy Woodpecker made random sounds as we joined Tuesday the second time. Nothing made any sound at 3:18. Scattered, Common Evening Primrose hold out yellow blossoms ignite my smile. Soleil lingers behind clouds. The sky, blueberries in cream, trees green, leaves unmoving. Ears ringing with quiet, with celestial singing.
Kept hearing “Sue” yesterday as I vacuumed the car, as the coins lacquered with spilled soda clinked into a bowl to be washed. I heard “Sue” several times waking through the night. I thought of times my neighbor Sue comforted me when my husband died, took me to the hospital for day surgery, stayed the whole time, poinsettia gifts at Christmas. The same voice that told me to visit her. It's been 17 months since she died.
At some sleepless time, I did something I never do—I looked at Facebook. A different Sue, a friend, post from her son, she has an infection, awaits a liver transplant.
The call to prayer, is not a mystery.
Art: LJ Austin "What is Real"
