(no subject)
Last night after my appointment, I drove over to lake Harriet.
It was around 9:00 at night, and I walked a bit around the lake. The breeze was coming off the lake, the crescent moon was overhead, and the sailboats sounded like a chorus of bells, as the sail fasteners clanged against the masts in the warm breeze.
This is summer.
These cherished days that evoke freedom and that bit of wildness that makes me want to quit my job and get a tiny trailer and live on a beach, listening to the waves, feeling the breezes. Days of swimming, and bicycling, and listening to the air move and the crickets at night.
Nights of thunderstorms with the sound of the rain on the skylight, and lightning creating patterns in the sky.
The taste of tomato right off the vine, and fresh salads with fresh herbs tossed in.
So much of that is here. Some of it, however, calls me to Maine beaches and beaches, and beach houses with sand invading the back yard, and strolls in the woods with the breeze blowing, and swimming in lakes and oceans.
Summer.
Don't blink.
It was around 9:00 at night, and I walked a bit around the lake. The breeze was coming off the lake, the crescent moon was overhead, and the sailboats sounded like a chorus of bells, as the sail fasteners clanged against the masts in the warm breeze.
This is summer.
These cherished days that evoke freedom and that bit of wildness that makes me want to quit my job and get a tiny trailer and live on a beach, listening to the waves, feeling the breezes. Days of swimming, and bicycling, and listening to the air move and the crickets at night.
Nights of thunderstorms with the sound of the rain on the skylight, and lightning creating patterns in the sky.
The taste of tomato right off the vine, and fresh salads with fresh herbs tossed in.
So much of that is here. Some of it, however, calls me to Maine beaches and beaches, and beach houses with sand invading the back yard, and strolls in the woods with the breeze blowing, and swimming in lakes and oceans.
Summer.
Don't blink.