When I love something, I can get ahead of myself. Like writing about summer's end in July. Thanks to the season's ease and pace, there's a natural focus on the lightness of being that deeply resonates.
We choose the lens through which we see the world. The looking glass of summer is always up for grabs.
You are here among the field and flowers, waving in the breeze.
Stand still so I can take you with me:
when leaves fall,
in the deep chill,
through spring rain.
Let's walk the slow way home, once more.