Rise

[rejectomorph]

After only a few hours, patches of lawn lose their deep green and begin to show bits of brown. The sunlight glares from the pavement. Standing in one spot, I soon feel the heat through the soles of my shoes. The buzzing of bumblebees is everywhere. Perfectly blue sky roofs a drowsing landscape, the leaves barely stirred by the slightest of breezes. A dry scent invades the air. The moss retreats, darkening, flattening itself against the bark of the mulberry tree. Spring declines, and desiccation begins.