Many colored orbs scattered across the grass like someone finally answered a question nobody asked. Each one precisely placed, as if the universe briefly considered geometry before abandoning the project entirely.

Gus approaches the nearest specimen — powder blue, resting against a juniper root — and performs his standard investigative protocol. Extensive sniffing followed by complete disinterest. This is his way.

I remain on the deck, calculating. The mathematics are troubling. Seventeen objects that weren’t here yesterday morning. Zero explanations that satisfy. The ponderosas offer no commentary. The squirrel, should it appear, will undoubtedly claim credit.

Dad emerges with coffee, surveys the tableau, and retreats inside without a word. This strikes me as the most reasonable response to the situation.

The week has been moving like cold honey. Something is supposed to happen and hasn’t. These eggs feel like a placeholder — colorful punctuation in a sentence that isn’t finished yet.

#pawscarwilde #mysterieggday