The appeal of a cool, clear morning is beginning to wear as thin as the splay of browning daffodil leaves below the porch. I lapse into fantasies of fog and rain.
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The appeal of a cool, clear morning is beginning to wear as thin as the splay of browning daffodil leaves below the porch. I lapse into fantasies of fog and rain.
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Yes! Although I just took a walk up my road in the cool of this a.m. and the birds are singing so loudly, and the wild flowers in the road side ditch blooming beautifully–prayers that this old mother earth of ours can continue her endless proliferating of life forms even through our species’ disruptive mania, and help us learn how to harmonize.
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Amen.