Afield

Afield in early July.

A field in early July.

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The road crosses diagonally. Unmown dandelion seed heads whiten the scene.

Spikes of colicroot, spires of white, steeple-stipple the green grasses.

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Pea family pinkness.

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What a beautiful field.

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The uneven horizon in the distance?
Dunes.

The woods to the Southwest kicks the breeze up and over our heads.

In that wind there is still a little clutch of coolness.

Here in the lee under the wind we are warm.

We are bathed in humid, salty air.

We breathe the scent of roses.

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2 responses to “Afield

  1. Your write such beautiful poetry, to illuminate your beautiful pictures.
    It’s a pleasure to start my cold Sunday reading this post 🙂

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