Thursday, August 6, 2026, 58.1* F, 86% RH, 0603
After the three walked down the ramp, walked up the ramp; after they received a biscuit; after Ruger was fed 300 mg of Doxycycline and an extra biscuit, after all were on their way to dreams again, I walked through the gate. Only one voice heard in the distance, a crow.
Sky mostly blue. In places, clouds resemble remnants of snow driven over by many vehicles. Stream muddy, still. Leaves unmoving. Where the sun lights treetops, she speaks of fall.
Seasons appear in increments.
Photo: LJ Austin
