The air is thick with pollen, swirling around our heads.
Chickens peck and dodge under pines, chased by the shadows of hawks overhead.
Blue jays on the chase too, squawking at crows trying to rob their nests.
Green things out in the garden, popping up overnight it seems.
We inspect everything, we poke and water and pull on a few weeds. Oh that was a flower, I think, maybe? Shove it back in the ground and hope for the best.
The sun soaks into our bones, pushing out memories of frozen winds and packed snow up to our waists, close your eyes, looking up at the sun, trying to . "Do you see red spots when you close your eyes and look at the sun mom?" he said, once upon a time. "Well, yea, I do." "Oh, me too."
Breathe in the moist summer air. Breathe out the cold.
And then the sky darkens and clouds appear, mosquitoes swarming in response, the pitter of rain hitting the dust, thunder echoing on the horizon.
We run back inside, changing into cool clothes, some lunch, a game of Uno.
And it is now. And they play. And I type. And what a week. And what a life.
And, I like this song.