Tuesday, September 16, 2025, 46.0*, 87% RH, 0737
Trucks traveling Route 172 at 5 made the only music. Two hours later, birds: Blue Jay, Canada Goose, White-throated Sparrow, Red-winged Blackbird, Northern Cardinal, Tufted Titmouse, Osprey.
Dew lies heavy puddling in places, not on my chair almost covered by the umbrella. Mariah has been gone for days. She is not required, still, we miss her. Soleil highlights more gold, not of her own painting. Melancholy is the word I hear, I type. Dad has been gone since the year Chris was born. He would’ve been 95 today.
My father, in my son, glimpsed in light’s reflection.
Photo: LJ Austin
