Wednesday, July 8, 2026, 79.8* F, 60% RH, 0918
An hour. We (the three and me) spent an hour outside. I sat in my gray plastic Adirondack chair with coffee in a red cup under a green umbrella. Zsolt blocked the ramp, Ruger found a place in the shade of the green umbrella to settle, to look through the railing toward the pond. Dirt dog (Zayne) jumped when he saw something, didn’t bark. He didn’t roll in the dirt that hasn’t been warmed enough by sun. He walked; he watched. He came to the bottom of the ramp, looked up, a plea for someone to play with him, take him for a walk.
Merlin identified birds: Black-and-white Warbler, Hermit Thrush, Common Grackle, Eastern, Wood-Pewee, Ovenbird, Swainson’s Thrush, Cedar Waxwing, Tufted Titmouse, Red-eyed Vireo, Nashville Warbler, Blue Jay, Common Nighthawk, Gray Catbird, American Robin, Northern Parula, Black-capped Chickadee, Common Yellowthroat. Zayne looks up through the railing communing with Ruger, looks to me for approval, wags his tail. Writing is usually the first thing, before I’m distracted by other callings, bills to pay, dishes to fill, laundry to fold, emails needing response. Mornings such as this ask for more than a glance. More than color of sky, more than wind direction, more than description of clouds.
Mornings such as this, are an invitation.
Photo: LJ Austin
