05.28.06
Summer
It’s warm, but not hot in the brindled shade of the ancient willows and cottonwoods that flank a modest, slow-moving river. Tiny ripples of water spread and collide and turn, splashing sparks of golden sunlight. Seeds plumed with white fluff wander lazily through the air in every direction. One drifts slowly upward, stalls, and finding a current, bends swiftly to the left. The sky is a palish blue, marked by a few high clouds. The air smells of dry leaves and grass, and of water. Birds chatter and cry to one another, and somewhere out of sight, swifter currents churn and babble.