I am sure that today is the last day I will be able to free my feet of shoes and wander in the grass.
Still winning the battle against brown.
But not for long because
Frost is the mushroom cloud of photosynthesis.
The green could have only hoped to store up enough energy to be prepared for the temporary Holocaust.
A bumble bee is still out pondering a clover. Bless him.
I made crowns of clovers when I was in Kindergarten, but I never had anyone to call a prince or princess. I was queen of my own dominion. But today I do not mind.
This most concise summary for the way today feels was the time this lady I know burned some browning leaves and grass- foliage already touched by those naked Fantasia sprites.
The smell was enough- While these cerebral floodgates opened and I remember so many things in one sniff.
I wish we could share our memory banks with some kind of USB port.
This should be the next step.
The transition from green to bolder yellow and red tones that converge to make orange then face to brown is so familiar.
I don’t guard at all hours; I take it all in without the default filing system.
Commonly, this is the first wave of ocean engulfing your feet, your ankles, pulling away in a kiss that tickles your toes.
That kind of comfort.
Naps on a couch
Freshly washed blankets
Fresh suede boots.