Thursday, September 24, 2026, 31.9* F, 86% RH, 30.58 BP, 0600
Rather than watching a field emerge from night, I watch the sky through leaves turn up the light. I left the fields in Pennsylvania. I left the mountains too, some mornings with ribbons of fog now seen only in photos. I still have a window, a desk. I still write. There are deer here though not the gatherings and none this frosted morning. A White-throated Sparrow speaks soft staccato. Spiders must have found wintering places. I switched on the furnace as coffee dripped into a slate blue cup. Moon last night. Sun will be over the horizon soon. I see the orange, the sparkle.
It is not so much what you see, it’s that you keep looking.
Photo: LJ Austin
