Tuesday, July 19, 2011

On Summer

How quickly the clouds disappear when the sun returns, every rainy sense of futility that was so close the day before is swept out to sea and I lay blissful in the bright light, basking. Feel the browning of skin freckle my heart with happiness, the cold water so welcoming against my restless body. Not a care in the world could ruin such a day, such a bouncy step. Another bottle of wine opened before the mosquitoes arrive and the neighbor returns to his home across the blueberry patch. We wash up dishes on the porch against a pink sunset; when I walk back to my cabin, the grass is dewy cool against my bare feet.

Such is bliss. We remember to love it all the more recklessly when the memory of cold rain nips at our heels and hearts.

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