Evening brought a crescent moon smile, and as I stood on the front porch I heard deer hooves, and saw the dim form of a lone stag trot up the street. I waited to see if other deer followed, but there were none. Perhaps others had already passed by before I'd gone out, and the lone stag was following his little herd.
All three of the feral cats turned up this afternoon, though not at the same time, and their mom came by for a snack too. Alger is still the only one of them that will purr for me. Portia purrs all the time, of course. It makes her happy to be putting little puncture wounds in my knees while sitting on my lap.
Tomorrow afternoon I have arrangements to go see my dad at the Hospice house. He'll undoubtedly be too heavily sedated to see me, or even know that I'm there, but I'll still get to see him.
I can smell the over-eager spring through my window, and hear the frog chorus singing. Maybe I'll go out to sniff and listen for a while. Surely a jacket will be appropriate by this hour. It doesn't seem right to go out without a jacket in the middle of February.