Hundreds of tiny white insects in an invisible sunbeam. A single pine tree as the backdrop for flying bug hysteria. A lost yellow butterfly high in the spiny green branches. Urban lizards in reappear to forage along concrete angles in rising California heat. Held motionless, with heads at an attentive forty-five degrees. The familiar sting of sweat-marinated eyes. The discomfort insufficiently disguising the scent of hidden blossoming. And the taste of an incoming drought.
4:01 p.m. - 2021-04-15
Recent entries:
Too Few Raindrops - 2021-04-29
Closed For Summer - 2021-04-29
Last Gold Evening For A While - 2021-04-22
Early Summer Blooms - 2021-04-22
Dead of Unwinter - 2021-04-15
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