SKYWARD
It's a beautiful sensation after a few days of cold, rainy autumn; the sun beams down from a crisp cerulean sky and hints at the warmth of days slipped by.
It seems as though my laments for a lost summer might have come a little early. The day is a perfect one, a hint of crispness on the gentle breeze, mingled with the warm caress of the sun's golden tendrils.
The trees are alive with the sound of birds, a twittering, chirping chorus. It brings to mind the quiet days of youth, the easy leisure that only seems to come from summers long-since past.
There is a note of tranquility in those frantic songs, a hint of panicked remorse as the days grow shorter, and the nights cooler.
The trees are already changing, the sea of green slowly transitioning to golden washes of yellow and fiery bursts of red.
There won't be many days like this left, so I intend to make the most of this one. I will sit in the dappled enclosure of my yard, A cold drink by my hand, and relish the passing of another year.
I will create a simple moment of nostalgia that I can revisit during the cold months of winter. That is my plan for today, a winsome passage of hours with my head tilted skyward as the birds sing their mourning dirge.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone. Please excuse auto corrected errors!
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