Saturday, April 11, 2026, 41.1* F, 88% RH, 0601
We stepped through the portal into sparse drops heavy with rain. The three did not mind. I looked for eyes, for designs in the sky, discovered gray, brown, yellow of the bench by the water, evergreen. I did not hear a Song Sparrow; Merlin did not hear birds either. No word from the rooster, no traffic noise.
Patterns of a Saturday.
Photo: LJ Austin
