Friday, November 7, 2025, 24.1*, 85% RH, 0636
Frost sits on flattened vegetation beside the pond where some ice resides in shallow spaces. Chairs stored for winter, a fire pit stands alone on an uneven platform making bowls that hold water till swept away. This morning, bowls hold frozen leaf works of art. Merlin thinks he hears a Pine Siskin. I only hear ringing in my ears and a rooster.
Tree tops bare, sky steel blue preparing for Soleil’s appearance. I am more interested in the moon. She paints a better portrait this morning than last night arrayed in yellow tangled in branches.
An observatory on the roof would be nice and a slide to return to earth.
Photo: LJ Austin
