Thursday, May 7, 2026, 45.1* F, 95% RH, 0621
Auto start brought the truck to life while I was watching the sky. In the past, a truck starting without a visible human startled Zsolt. He wasn’t outside. He was sleeping. We had been outside at 0230 when the rain stopped, the rain he didn’t want to walk in at last call at 0930 at 1015 at 1100. I took pictures of changing sky, pure white reflections of sun on water of sun appearing, of sun disappearing. The camera did not capture what I saw. I looked for the pair of black ducks I filmed yesterday when I thought at first, they were beaver. Wildflowers seeded last year beside the container are coming up strong. Fiddleheads appear where I didn’t see them yesterday. Lily of the Valley thrives. Common Evening Primrose is leafing. Rooster crows. Zsolt inspects oak flowers scattered on the deck swollen with rain, decides they are not food. I want to stay outside with the birds, Common Yellowthroat, Northern Parula, Ovenbird, Black-throated Green Warbler. The three want to go inside, get a biscuit, go to sleep. I dump rainwater off my chair. Open the door.
I was taught to always be doing, to be tending to others.
I wasn’t taught to be still.
I’m learning.
Photo: LJ Austin
