in which Megan sits and sees a view during Lent 2011
What is my puppy chewing? I’m never in this section of the yard—their pooping ground. It is also the only section with grass.
I like sitting with the tailgate against my back. Do you think John might leave the truck here for the entire six weeks of Lent? Nah. It’s just here until he can haul off the debris.
No clouds. Bad day for my son, who believes cloudless days are bad days. The boy should move to Seattle because our corner of Texas has no shortage of uncloudy days.
I won’t look at the sun. It feels too warm. My phone was in the shade. Now it’s sunned. I move it.
I see two birds across the alley. Lots of robins lately. Can’t see them clearly with the sun in my eyes.
I stand up, walk to the other end of the tailbed, and sit with my back against the cab. If I’m going to sit for any length of time, I need to face a new direction.
A nest! Up high, across the way in a bare tree. Exposed to blueness. No leaf shade.
Yellow butterfly.
