Yes, more owls today. I think that’s the last of them. I hope. Except for the eyes. Dared to play with the zinnia petals a little more. And then there’s that yellow metal basket with the conch shell bringing up the rear. All the while I was serenaded from 7:30 AM until about 4 by two massive tankers of tar, idling on the road in front of my house. I don’t know if they moved all day or not. They never shut their engines off even once. I wanted to run out and slap them. I thought of my neighbor ladies in their sweat lodge, trying to meditate and be spiritual amidst the racket and diesel fumes.
Meanwhile, the vultures circled the dead fawn out in the field as the cats hid in the bushes, worried about the monster trucks. And — in case you were wondering what I caught last night on the trail cam, it was Mr. Coyote. No, the fun never ends here at Possum Hollow Studio!
Margie Guyot Art 