Monday, March 2, 2026, 4.7* F, 43% RH, 0736
Camera aimed in the direction of light, couldn’t see through Polaroid glasses exactly what I was shooting. ‘Have always been told not to look directly at the sun or lasers. Blue skies, tree shadows falling straight across snow following geography over boulders, through fences. Sun peeks between trunks. Into scraped out, melted, frozen, slippidy places where the three walk, I toss shovelfuls of crusted snow something for feet to hold onto.
Ruger lies in the doorway keeping the giants in their room away from me (he thinks). Zayne steps over him to nuzzle my arm, to help me type, to get petted.
There’s a way past each obstacle.
Photo: LJ Austin
