Saturday, June 28, 2025, 56.* 0609
Leaves have been washed free, free of clouded black dust sent flying most days by Great Danes jousting. Pollen mingles where raindrops gather. Coffee cools in a red cup on the counter.
It was not raining when we came outside, not stifling, although the air was heavy. From the hook beside the door, I took the gray and white striped towel to dry my chair hoping not to rouse mosquitoes. At that moment, the skies said, "Oh look. They're outside, let's give them a shower." I dried the three as they came inside, then I dried me, not with the dog towel.
The birds more attuned to the ways of rain, are sheltering, not singing. Bits of sky that I can see look mint green, an illusion of windowpanes and leaves. Tender buds not found by deer show me Evening Primrose flowers.
Inner strength and resilience, messages from flowers.
Photo: LJ Austin
