Monday, November 24, 2025, 27.4*, 86% RH, 0635
After the three went out, came in, had a biscuit, came back for another, asked for morning pets while I sat with the nebulizer: I stood on the front deck listening, looking. A sound I did not recognize perhaps a small animal. Merlin did not recognize it as a bird, then again Merlin doesn’t record roosters either. He identified a Raven. There are splashes of blue wax on the rug I could iron onto a paper towel if I knew where was the iron. The three sleep, don’t beg for graham crackers or coffee nor ask for pets while I’m writing.
After I took each dog for a walk across the leech field, around the driveway Sunday, I took two walking poles to make my way to the pond where I can’t yet take the three. Took pictures of moss-covered rocks, frozen leaves, frozen water, the landscape my son continues to shape to his vision. I still see two days of you sleeping, not moving, only opening your eyes when I administered pain medication. Light frost. Blue skies. No sign of Soleil arriving.
Reminders of our past, our visions randomly claim our attention.
Photo: LJ Austin
