coffeeandwoodsmoke

An almost imperceptible shift in the light. A slant of golden, the earth’s turning reflected in sunflowers’ faces. The skies blue again after a good night’s wind and rain scrubbed the smoky haze that had descended over the mountains, stacking them like so many cardboard cutouts. Around the edges the air is cool, threaded with the promise of chill. The creek meanders along, more leisurely than lazy, having left the frenetic pace of runoff behind. A grasshopper symphony plays from grassy fields, blanched seed heads bowing in the breeze. Walking along the path I see these musicians leap, a striking resemblance to butterflies in flight, all yellow threaded wings and suspended animation.

Chokecherries ripen along the creek corridor. One old tree at a prominent crossroads always produces a good crop, which I never touch for want of leaving them for the wildlife that needs them far more than I. My…

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