I keep thinking it's summer here. The garden is still producing, raspberries are ripening and dropping before I can get to them and the sun is putting me in t-shirts rather than sweaters. I'm loving the sun and the extra inspiration it's giving each day, but equally, I love the nights. It can reach 75 degrees daytime and as soon as that sun drops behind the pasture horizon, the temp falls right with it...to sweater weather.
By the time my full gray sweater is on the sky is deepening to a red hue and I'm rushing to get the feed to the ducks. I keep getting shocked by the early darkness. Once I'm done with chores and walking back to my little hearth, Orion is greeting me and that's how I know it's summer no more.
After a day full of strong winds, night comes, everything calms and I just stop. I breath the air around me and let go of the things I didn't finish during the day, let alone the things I didn't even start. Those are the moments I live for. Moments where I swear the wind is talking to me, stopping me in my tracks to remind me how big the universe is. I stare at the Milky Way and just like the night before and the week before that, I'm humbled. The vastness has conquered many persons ability to find words and I add myself to the number. So I rest, feeling peace and thankfulness.
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