$+ StuartO))) attempts to compose a daylog in reflection of the aforementioned Title, but the plaintiful whining of his dog dispels the singing of the E2 muse as the wind would scatter the dust from an opened windowsill.
Dawn breaks over the fence and sunlight illuminates the rods of frost clinging to the thick dark green leaves of Kale. I turn and the facets of ice glow pink and blue and gold. Already warmed a little, the yellow and green leaves yet remaining on the trees rain down in silence. Without the slightest breeze present, they surrender and fall as if in celebration.
$+ StuartO))) 's dog continues to whine and yawn in frustration and to claw upon the doorframe to go out and play.
The dog is a relentless one-stroke machine. Again and again, I heave the orange-squeaky-squirrel Jolly Ball upon the icy lawn which twinkles like Christmas in the morning sunlight. He gallops, leaps and lunges in joyful pursuit, pouncing and scattering ice from the grass and retrieving his prize, huffing like a steam engine, his breath condensed and puffing in the cold morning air. Again and again, I heave the ball and he retrieves it to me until the icy lawn is scarred and bears witness to the effort.
My breath, too, hangs in the air. Tiny little particles of moisture condensed in the cold. Steam rises and twists from my coffee mug in ribbons, each little particle glowing in the sun. I scratch the frost from the face of the thermometer I have jammed in the railing. The needle rest five two-degree increments from the Zero mark. Twenty-Two degrees Fahrenheit
Satisfied from his morning play, and refreshed from a long slobbering, clanking drink from his bowl, the dog now flops on the couch. His paws dangle over the edge on lanky legs, glowing like dark exotic wood in the edge of a sunbeam. Specs of dust hover.
I am hungry now.
In my pockets I have two peppers I rescued from the garden. They are frozen and will not get any riper now. I cut into the green one and it is not pleasing to the nose. The reddish-pale paprika does not offend so I chop it up.
The green seven-segment-display clock of the oven reads 9:11 now, but Daylight Savings Time ended last night and I have gained an hour. I have another forty-five minutes before I need to leave for practice.
The sun has now risen above the height of the tallest trees. As if the lawn were some field of battle, the sunlight begins to create beach-heads of thawing in the grass and the frost imperceptibly begins to retreat from it, now glowing lush green and be-dewed.
$+ StuartO))) makes pepper and egg tacos.