The light of August seeps into paper, weaves into the forest as vibrant as ignited confetti.
A crow perches on a high cedar and calls into the air, half- song, half-scathing commentary.
In the still heat of summer, memory simmers and shines: an oasis created out of worn books, crumpled letters, and tree forts swaying under the blue canopy of sky.
A new story emerges, takes shape, stirs me from a long slumber.
Good to see you back online. It has been a mostly peaceful and contemplative summer. My Elkhounds purr.
Thanks Terry! I really like the image of purring elkhound cats.