Sunday: The creek is at a reduced volume and the level is lean. It is like looking at the back of a thin person, where the backbone and ribs stick out. The rocks and lines in the creek bed are visible, the meat and the muscle of the water current are miniscule.
Small birds dot tall trees: a rusty red-breasted robin, then a fiery red male cardinal and finally a brilliant blue jay. No heron to report, not in the stream, trees or air.
Someone has etched a good-sized heart in the screenings: a plump round one about two feet across, enclosing the lettering A + E. Then a series of heart outlines at intervals along the path, like an ellipsis of continuing love and adoration.