Sunday, February 15, 2026, 16.6* F, 64% RH, 0819
Soleil’s white light paints gray trees on snow, another quarter inch added to landscape overnight. A crumpled spider dangles when I open the fuse box. What did he expect to capture in there? Perhaps he was staying out of sight, out of the reach of my vacuum? Did he walk across the kitchen ceiling at night?
Ruger made a path through snow mounds to get under the deck, reach bare ground. In warmer months that’s a shaded hangout for the three. I find shade under a green umbrella, which soon may return to the deck.
We are blessed by the coming, the passing of seasons.
Photo: LJ Austin
