Happy pandemic tax day. The IRS pulled what I owed out of my bank account on Monday just like I set it up months ago.

As you can see, once again I’m sitting on the front porch. And surprisingly, the humidity is a bit lower and the temperature is still feeling springlike… at least so far as being under 80 degrees when I walk out… springlike.

Our whistling ducks must like it so much here they’re inviting their friends. I’ve already had three fly away and still two are perched in my live oak. They really like the wide spreading limbs of the live oaks. Though, they’ll settle for a nook or a cranny in the water oaks.

There’s just a slight breeze today. Barely enough to move the leaves much less make the wind chimes sing.

The sound of a small plane reaches me and reminds me of how few planes I’ve been hearing these last few months. It’s a sound I’ve been used to my entire life. Growing up in Pasadena, we were under the approach to Houston Hobby. And in the 50’s and 60’s they came in fast and low. The glass in the windows would rattle as the planes roared over. Even hear in Alvin, we would hear planes landing at Hobby or Ellington.

My pileated woodpecker is back. It hasn’t called yet, but it just landed high in the water oak on the other side of the drive.

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My cup runneth low… it’s time to go in and check the morning outrageousness of our fearful leaders… y’all stay safe, stay healthy and just hang in there… we’ll all get through this even if half of us hate the outcome.