Thursday, March 20, 2025, 34.5*
As the day was gaining light, I looked toward the silent pond through my camera lens hoping to see ripples from a beaver swimming, paddling about delighted to be free of winter’s seclusion, only the quiet current of the stream was seen. There are no birds, no deer, not anything but me and the three and even they are quiet.
Ruger buries his head in the water bowl slurping, two of a kind sit side by side tails sweeping in unison waiting for a biscuit, furnace hums, coffee drips.
They woke again, pushing the curtain aside at the door looking, the three, seeking me as I took pictures from the deck, a crow cawing, traffic, the day itself awakening. Another gray silk morning, misting.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Psalm 46:5 NIV
Photo: LJ Austin
