Saturday, July 4, 2026, 75.7* F, 82% RH, 0802
Soleil touched the pond, not just reflecting herself, but turning water white. Seven birds did not stop conversing when I slid the door open: Black-and-white Warbler, Wood Thrush, Hermit Thrush, Common Yellowthroat, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Ovenbird, Red-eyed Vireo.
Air goes right for the throat making me cough. Sky summer blue. Clouds flat, drifting apart. During a brief foray yesterday for the three, from the deck I could see a tick on Zsolt, not so much see the tick as the silky short fur pushed up. Zsolt now inspecting screwdrivers in a drawer left open. Ruger and Zayne, sleeping.
About 0400 a deer, probably a yearling, stood in the stream looking forlorn, perhaps puzzled, perhaps remembering when he was the young one in the company of mother. My eyes darted between him and the three who did not see him. He stood looking toward us before turning to the shelter of trees. Before bed, frogs calling.
Listen while there is something to hear.
Photo: LJ Austin
