Probably not. There hasn't been a cloud in the sky during the daytime for the past three months. Sun shine every day, all day long. I was trying to think of what to write next and had a rep-play of a scene from Texasville. Karla is on the bed going through Duane's high school annual while he brushes his teeth and she says "Well she didn't love you forever, did she Duane." Somewhere in his answer he replies (or implies, or maybe I'm just making it up) that it is difficult to be lovable, or even interesting, for a whole lifetime. That just the thought of trying made him tired. That's all true, and the same goes for the things that we become interested in. Our attention takes as great a toll on the objects of our attention, as our paying attention takes on us. We find people, places or things that are wonderful, then wear ourselves and them, or that, or those out. (Except for this sky, and the infinity of light and color combinations that are this landscape. They fascinate me more every day, and I do wear out a lot of words and phrases attempting to describe them.) I still love the pond and will give it attention, but the initial inescapable attraction is becoming escapable. A modified night sky through elm branches picture is today's final comment on that subject.
I've never really talked very much or made a lot of noise, and even though Kilo came to live with me, that hasn't changed much. We do talk some, but we've had a pretty much quiet existence until Buddy showed up. He is loud and never shuts up if he wants his way about something. I can actually hear him barking when I am at the far end of the walking path a few miles away from here. He has recently taught her to complain, or at least showed her that complaining works and I'm getting it right now because she wants to go to the backyard and fight over a frisbee. It's 30 degrees and I don't want to. I guess the point is that I just gave her a lecture, out loud, and now I feel bad for calling her spoiled and selfish. Not really. I just explained that I'm busy and it's cold outside, but she can go and play if she wants. She went to bed instead.
The third picture is of the first people to ever jump into the pond on the first day that we filled it. They are my niece and her daughter, and if they hadn't done it, the rest of us probably never would have. We are almost too shy to attempt things that might be intrusive, on anyone or anything else. Even with that great start we actually only swam in the pond for the first couple of weeks. When we saw that animals were starting to live there we quit because it seemed rude to bother them. Well, that part was noble, but now I'm bored yet obligated. Both sides have lost that initial shine.