Beth Borrus, August 17, 2025

On the front porch, well I don’t call it a porch, of course, but the deck is the best part of the house, even though the climate only allows me to use it about half the year. Custom-made like everything in this place, the upper deck has wrap-around benches where I like to perch and observe. We are up on a hill, and I watch the cars and trucks go by, the activity of the birds on the shoreline, the movement of clouds around the mountain.

There is a lower portion, with built in flower boxes and a section with a tin roof, providing shade and a great place to watch the rain come down all around you, barely getting wet. More wrap-around benches on the lower deck. My cafe table and chairs, the rainbow hammock, the flowers. It’s my kind of heaven.

Out here, where it can get so dark. Out here, where there are so many stars. A million fireflies in the dark The sound of water lapping at the sand, the sound of birdsong, of my songs–

Why I like to sing in the open air, an audience of avians. Set up on something like a stage, audible but invisible, singing to the water, singing to the moon.

Soon, I’ll be stuck inside, snow piled up on the planks. I painted in April or May-trees across the street bare of leaves, revealing quiet white silence behind.

Someone Cheated

Someone cheated and got caught, which is where the real trouble begins. It’s one thing to cheat with no one else ever being the wiser, but it’s another to cheat, enjoy the cheat for what it is and keep the secret in your pocket for all time. It’s one more thing to cheat and feel guilty for the rest of your life, but burden no one with your shame: Some confessions are weapons and one should use them wisely, if at all.

It is another thing altogether to cheat and get caught. There are multiples in this scenario, as well. For instance, maybe you got caught because you wanted to be caught. Maybe being caught was the whole point of the cheat. Maybe the cheat depended on the concurring caughtness.

Or maybe being caught was accidental and is the cause of regret. Maybe there was no shame at all until you were caught, and what is the lesson in that? If you are not good at cheating, don’t cheat, maybe. Or was it an opportunity to get better at cheating: Is that a goal for non-sociopaths? Maybe not.

And if getting caught was a staged part of cheating in order to confess to someone to make them feel hurt and betrayed by you…well, that is another can of worms.