My walks feel more like an escape from detention. So I find myself paying closer attention to the landscape. The park grounds keeper is clearly still struggling with this delayed upkeep. Wildflowers have taken over.
Often, I would come across a patch of yellow, with a pink one snuggled comfortably in their midst. How nice!
The morning wears the humidity like a cloak. Through still air, the cries of the hawk from the tree canopy. He seizes the opportunity to buzz the red tailed squirrels, bringing to a halt their morning romp. The morning gaggle of geese wander through like they own the place. All a part of the morning routine around here.
early morning walk
flutter ripple through trees – soon,
autumn wind talking
For Frank Tassone’s Poetry Challenge where the ptompt is Autumn Wind