It's eight forty-three in south central Texas. Sixty-four degrees prompt me to open the windows. Soul-soothing songbirds are nearby, as is the presence of motorized legions off too to spin their fate. I'm reading Jenny Lane; her words invite me to celebrate, for which I'm grateful and blessed to be reminded of summer's promises. When I was young, she was the only season to offer the elements that would always aid my escape whenever I needed, twenty-four-seven. Nowadays, summer night provides a crash course in everything. It's one of nature's metaphors that fulfills all my life's desires.
As always, thank you for sharing Jenny.