Saturday, February 8, 2025, 5*
Overnight the landscape did not change. Mariah did not visit. There are no hoof prints in the snow, no birds are heard, not even the red squirrel is seen. Snow is not falling. Sun draws designs on the fern, on the plaster woman, reaches for some books. Is Soleil interested in art? In Brilliant Beginnings, The Art of Perspective, The Complete Printmaker, or are they just the books she can reach? Ruger lays his head on ancient music books moved so I could dust the table. Zayne sits close to my chair until I stop petting, then he stands over Ruger willing him to move. Discouraged, he noses shelves of poetry. Zsolt, legs outstretched, sleeps under my desk.
"Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness."
Lamentations 3:22-23
Photo: LJ Austin
