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rejectomorphTime is again flying, and lovely words are swirling around in my head, but failing to alight long enough to be captured and assembled for display here on my virtual page.
One more day has passed in summer's stately decline, and one more evening has fallen slightly earlier than that which preceded it. The haze which blurred the distant ridges and softened the trees has vanished into darkness, and I watch vague stars emerge. I look forward to that fading which soon begins, and the tattering of spring's legacy by autumnal storms.
Out to hear the oblivious crickets sing, and perhaps the fluttering of bats.
One more day has passed in summer's stately decline, and one more evening has fallen slightly earlier than that which preceded it. The haze which blurred the distant ridges and softened the trees has vanished into darkness, and I watch vague stars emerge. I look forward to that fading which soon begins, and the tattering of spring's legacy by autumnal storms.
Out to hear the oblivious crickets sing, and perhaps the fluttering of bats.
