Wednesday, April 22, 2026, 24.7* F, 75% RH, 0629
1111 would be a winner on a slot machine, not so much on an alarm clock, not set, just displaying numbers in the dark. Later, while coffee dripped (or so I thought), while the three slept, I walked through the gate for pictures of split wood neatly stacked, ice along the edge of the pond where black ducks returned after Zayne’s barking flew them away yesterday, patterns of frost on car windows. I inspected frost on metal fence posts, a city of tiny people arms reaching straight up. For what? For whom? The sun will take them.
Zayne, and Zsolt (usually the last) stood at the door ears raised in that surprised face, not happy, heads swiveling from closed door to ramp. Something wasn’t right. Ruger wasn’t with them. I hadn’t gone outside, just let them out. No one barked. Didn’t check the deck to see if it was okay. Still not used to slippidy surfaces in late April. Zayne thankfully did not collide with me when I opened the door to step out. He wanted desperately to escape something that was happening outside. Once in the house Zayne looked at me deciding, he refused to come out. I talked to Zsolt following him down the ramp. Ruger was in the fenced-in-land following a scent. I couldn’t see the truck, but I could see the extension ladder being loaded.
Seeing new things can be unsettling.
Photo: LJ Austin
