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Morning

i felt it yesterday- the change in season.

a friend’s young maple tree changing already from green to yellow-orange.

a certain feel to the evening air. a stillness that reminded me of september. the feeling of summer winding down and coming to a close.

today, a coolness to the breeze, despite the day’s heat.

it’s only july.

Evening

it’s so dark, i say to my son. it’s only seven o’clock. i wonder will it rain?

it’s been teasing all day, he replies, slicing cucumbers for supper.
they smell like rain.

in the laundry room folding the clean clothes. i hear the first raindrops hit. ping. ping. i open the door to outside. slowly, then quickly, the downpour.

the rain is coursing down the door, plopping off the doorknob. the white and blue embroidered curtain on the little window is getting soaked. if i keep doing this it will mildew, i think, still folding. usually one to take such care of my things, it doesn’t matter. the sight, the sound, the smell of the rain is far more precious.

thunder. i smile.

and now. the dripping gold and gray sunset.

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