Monday, September 28, 2026, 51.4* F, 97% RH, 30.08 BP, 0731
Free from the turmoil of wind, leaves, yellow, red, green rest on the deck, some tattered, some in pieces, some upright, stems wedged in the space between boards. In the canopy those still attached flap frantically. Color and shape brush together--a drab landscape painting where the artist didn’t know how to paint in the light without sun to guide her. Sky a shade of gray leaning toward white. Wind has already shaken rain from trees. Stream is higher, not over her banks as it was in a storm our first year here. The three have been out twice, twice dried, twice given a biscuit, twice returned to sleep. He said we are safe here. It will not flood. We spoke of boats sliding down the curve of a swell of being surrounded by walls of water.
I sat on that deck life jacket clipped to a lifeline looking where the horizon should’ve been.
Photo: LJ Austin (intentional camera movement)
