Friday, September 12, 2025, 42.6*, 83% RH, 0650
In my pocket, three mini chocolate bars, contained in their foil wrappings morphed into the shape of bone – my left hip specifically. What could have distracted me from chocolate? I remember taking them from the tall Christmas-scene tin, my out-of-sight, out of mind keeper; takes two hands to remove the lid. Another lock – stiff fingers. A mystery for later.
Weight of earth of stone pushing them, dump trucks roar coming down the hill into Surry. Upgraded to a solar panel, the speed limit monitor that flashes how fast you are going, didn’t display anything as I drove past last week. Maybe someone forgot to turn it on.
Vultures here again yesterday. A farmer mentioned to my son coyotes have been killing his livestock. Last night, hackles up looking into the darkness towards the pond, Ruger (German Shepherd) began barking. Even with a flood light there was nothing humans could recognize. I did recognize earlier in the evening the sound of a Great Blue Heron.
How the vision changes when you change one letter: prey, pray.
Photo: LJ Austin
