April 6, 2025

Storm during the night. Had to get up to close windows that had been open for only two days. 

My dogwoods stand in full glory, an ivory wall between my bedroom and the street.

Two days of sun and a night of rain push the nondescript cotyledons high enough that they show themselves to be fern or Solomon’s seal or mayapple or weed, and may be dealt with accordingly. 

I count seven sizeable goldfish as survivors in my ravaged pond. I’ll try to do right by them. 

Cyrus’s demeanor is quite different from Sweetboi’s. Sweetboi presented himself visibly, and if that failed, by screaming, because he wanted something from me, which I was stupid with joy to give. Cyrus is content to laze about hidden by his almost perfect camouflage, calm if I spot him, indifferent if I do not. I haven’t heard the famous red-tailed scream yet. Some thought that he might be female, except that my recollection is that females are larger. 

Asheville’s protest pictured on the front page of the NY Times.